Second Chances
by rhythmi
Summary: After thirteen years of being apart, Cynthia and Diantha are reunited by chance. Just as things change, others stay the same. phaesporiashipping (Cynthia/Diantha)
1. Beginnings

Second Chances

Chapter One

Beginnings

With the last desk in place, Diantha stood at the front of her classroom, assessing her work. Every so often, she would walk to a desk to adjust its position, taking care to align it with the grain of the tile.

Her work would surly be destroyed within the next hour when her first class of the year arrived, but for now, appearances were everything.

"You've adjusted that desk five times now."

She laughed in response, not bothering to look at the man in her doorway. She didn't need to look up to know exactly who it was.

"Mr. Sycamore, surly you of everyone will know I will adjust it another five times before I am satisfied," she teased.

His laugh rumbled in his chest, finally drawing in her blue eyes. The extra cup of coffee in his hands particularly attracted her attention.

"The kids are just going to mess it up," he reminded her.

"I can always hope that they won't," she told him, adjusting the desk one last time.

Looking around her room, and deciding that it was finally to her liking, she walked to her desk to sit in its chair. "I've probably already asked, but how are your class lists looking this year?"

Placing the extra coffee in front of her, he sat in the chair closest to her desk. "You did, but things changed!" He began, taking a long sip of his coffee. "They ended up hiring that extra science teacher, and so now my class loads are down to twenty. For now my max is my fourth block with twenty one, I believe."

"I was wondering about that. That must be nice. My largest class is still at twenty eight. Second block, if I remember correctly."

He sighed in response, stretching his legs out. "One of these days they'll figure out that they need to hire more literature teachers."

She responded by nodding as she took a sip of her coffee. It was incredibly sweet, to her liking. "One day maybe, but definitely not this year."

"How many of your students you think will recognize you?" He asked, looking at her with a smile.

She rolled her eyes. "I pray that I have another year like last year. Nobody recognized me. Not their parents. Not even my new homeroom kids." It had been a blessing. For the first four years of her teaching career, it was usually the parents of students who ended up recognizing her. Sometimes her students would, too, but it was usually parents who would remember the release of her movies.

Last year, nobody had recognized her. It was the peace she had been searching for since leaving her movie career six years prior to it. However, whether or not it was meant to last was yet to be seen. Her last film had only been released ten years ago.

"I can't say that I know what it's like, but I'm sure that must have been nice," he sympathized.

They sat in silence, enjoying the calm before the day started.

"Excuse me," came a quiet voice.

Looking over, a student she hadn't met stood in her doorway, a small spread of papers in her hands. "Yes?" Diantha answered, turning in her chair to face her.

"Are you…" she paused, looking down at what was likely her schedule. "Are you Mrs. Gardner?" She asked, brushing her bangs away from her glasses.

Diantha nodded. "Yes."

"Okay, cool! I just moved here, and so I'm trying to figure out where all my classes are. I have you for," again, she looked to her paper, "for homeroom and second block!"

"Oh, excellent! So glad to have you. You know to come here first thing when the bell rings, correct?"

The blonde nodded. "Yeah! That, and that we have free reign of the halls until the bell rings, and that there's a one hour lunch period?"

Augustine nodded. "That would be correct. Though, it's more like…forty five minutes."

"Ms. O'Neal said something like that," she responded, while continuing to look at Diantha.

It was an expression she knew all too well. The expression of, "I recognize you." Dread crept its way into her stomach. Thankfully, to her acting career no less, she was able to mask it.

"Has anyone told you you look really familiar?"

Diantha forced a laugh. "Yes, I get that a lot."

She continued looking at her, but then shook her head. "I can't remember who you look like." Thankfully, she wasn't willing to press it any further. "Could you tell me where Mr.-" she looked to her paper "-Crouch is? He's my first block teacher."

"To your right, and at the very end of the hallway on the left, right before the stairwell," Augustine answered.

"Awesome! Thank you!" With that, she was off, nose buried in her papers.

Diantha laughed at the situation, watching as Augustine rose from the too-small desk. "Well, that makes one," he told her.

She shook her head, resting her cheek in her hand. "Unfortunately."

"Well," he began, heading for the door, "I'm going to make sure my teaching assistant is printing off enough copies of this semester's syllabus." He put his hand on her shoulder, offering her as much support as he could in the moment. "Hopefully, she'll be the only one."

"Hopefully," she echoed, even though she already lost hope.

Once he had left, Diantha leaned back in her chair, looking over her room. The chair that Augustine had been sitting in was now just crooked enough to bother her.

The hallways were still quiet enough to tell her that she still had plenty of time to do any last minute adjustments to her room.

Holding onto her coffee cup, she sipped it while contemplating actually moving it. It bothered her to no end to see it out of line with the rest, but she wondered if she would be able to fight against the need to fix it.

Minutes passed. Just before she could finally cave, the sound of approaching students distracted her.

She greeted the pair that walked in, watching as the taller girl sat in the seat she had wanted to fix.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Staring at the large display that showcased the earth's rock cycle, Cynthia rubbed her neck in thought. She would forever be mad that the colors hadn't come out just right. The magma was a few shades too bright, and the brown in some of the rocks was on the orange side.

Walking around it, she made sure all the interactive parts were in order before moving on to the next section in the geology ward. All the video displays worked correctly, and nothing seemed to be missing.

Yet.

How children managed to get away with taking things from interactive displays, on accident or not, was beyond her.

With everything in its place, she headed for the main entrance of the center.

"Alright. We have you booked for the twentieth and the twenty third." A pause. "Thank you!"

Taking a detour into her bosses office, she stood in the doorframe, watching him hastily write things down in a planner.

"Another school I take it?" She asked.

She was met with silence.

"Steven?"

"Oh!" He looked up from his planner, flinging his pen out of his hand. "Yes, a school. Hazleton Elementary is making a trip with their third and fourth graders later this month," he told her, swiveling in his chair to pick up the pen.

She nodded, making a mental note of it. "We're still good to open the planetarium in two weeks, right?" She asked.

He gave a noncommittal gesture with his hands. "Should be. Pre-sale tickets start this weekend," he reminded her. "Though, I might have promised the schools access ahead of that." He returned his attention to the planner.

She laughed at him, taking a seat in the chair across from him. "It's probably a good thing you're now officially the owner. I doubt Mason would have approved of that in the past."

He responded with a small laugh. "Probably not."

"Anyways, I wanted to talk to you about something," she started, clasping her hands together. "It's something I think would benefit the museum greatly."

He stopped writing, looking up at her again, no longer smiling. "If it's about an archaeology section, for the _millionth_ time, no."

She crossed her legs, sighing as over-dramatically as possible. "You and I both know very well an archaeology section would do wonders for this place. While I'm thrilled with the planetarium and new display in the geology wing, I think-"

He raised his hand up, stopping her. "Cynthia, look, trust me. I would _love_ an archaeology section just as much as you would, it's…I'm still," he paused, unsure whether or not to share the information with her.

"The whole wing leading up to the planetarium is empty!" She reasoned.

"Yes, because we're still finalizing things in the planetarium, _and_ it wouldn't even fit there, thematically. Archaeology is history, and the planetarium is now," he countered.

She leaned forward, having anticipated the response. "I thought of a tie-in, actually. We could showcase what the stars would have looked like during the times of the displays! They weren't in the same position as most of the creatures I could get."

He shook his head, trying not to laugh. "While that _is_ a good idea, no."

"Steven," she grumbled, dragging out the vowels.

It was not the first time they had this debate. It wasn't even the tenth time. For _four_ months now, she had greeted him every Monday and Friday morning with the subject. She promised him that she wouldn't stop until she got an archaeology section.

"Look, okay, _fine_ ," he lamented, "I shouldn't be sharing this with you because I don't want to get your hopes up, but fine!"

She sat back in her chair, looking on expectantly.

"I…I might have gotten approval from the city to…work on an addition to the museum once everything with the planetarium is finished. They're still waiting on my final budget, not just my tentative budget, but…things are looking good for a new building. I pitched to them that it would be, primarily, for archaeology."

Her eyes went wide, not expecting to finally hear the words. "Really?" She asked.

"Like I said! _Might!_ It would be a year, minimum, before we could even begin to think about working on it."

Her face broke into a smile. "Steven, that's incredible!"

He returned the smile, shrugging his shoulders. "I wanted to wait and tell you, but the thought of not having this dumb discussion again on Friday outweighed everything."

"You've probably just made my year, honestly."

He laughed. "Always looking to please, Cynthia," he told her, folding his arms across his chest.

"Well, now that we've got this morning ritual out of the way, what's on the agenda for today?" She asked.

He turned to his computer, bringing it to life with one click. Pulling up the main calendar, he looked it over. "No large tour groups until Thursday, so I'll probably put Ila with you today. I want you to assess her speaking skills. She's a talker, that's for sure, but I want you to make sure she has the needed professionalism."

She gave him a confused look. "Did David say something?" She asked, thinking of who had supervised her last.

Steven shook his head. "No, no. I just want to make sure she's just as good as you are with groups."

"I have, what, ten years experience on her, though?"

He shrugged again. "Doesn't mean I don't have high expectations."

She nodded, standing from her spot.

Thanking him before she left, she went on her way to do one last check of everything before they opened to the public. With a slight spring in her step, the day was sure to go by quickly.

Having her best friend also be her boss had its perks.

* * *

With the end of the day finally brought on by the sound of the bell, Diantha said goodbye to her students and sat at her desk. Slumping her shoulders, she let the tension ease out of her with a few deep breaths.

The first day was never her favorite. Getting her classes to introduce themselves to one another was never all that fun for many students, and there was only so much she could do to hold their attention while going over the syllabus.

Thankfully, with that out of the way, she could finally put all her focus into the main parts of her lesson plans.

However, first things first, she had to straighten up her room. All day it had bothered her, and it took everything in her to not straighten it too much up during her planning period.

When Augustine had appeared at her door again, she had just finished her last row of chairs.

"So, how badly was that killing you, today?" He asked.

"You have no idea," she answered from across the room.

He laughed in response, leaning against the doorway. When she approached him, she realized he looked far more tired than he had seven hours ago.

"How was your first day, Augustine?" She asked, grabbing for her planner and side bag.

"Long," he answered with a yawn. "Syllabus day is always long, and I can't get a read of how many kids will actually pay their lab fees."

That was the one good thing about the literature department, Diantha mused. That her students didn't have to pay a lab fee. While it wasn't a steep price to her, she knew that to some students, it would be hardly payable.

"What about you?" He asked, stepping aside to let her out of her room.

"Long as well," she told him while closing the door behind her. "But!" She added, walking down the hall with him. "Do you remember that student from this morning?" She asked.

He nodded a yes, but truth be told, after a flow of new students all day, he couldn't actually remember.

"He name is Avery Beecher, and she's from Wevok, Wisteria!"

"Small world," he replied.

The two teachers were both originally from the Wisteria region of the country. Augustine had moved to Easton, Cordova over twenty years prior, and Diantha not long after her last film. It wasn't often that the two had students from Wisteria.

Once signed out, the two headed for the staff parking lot, taking in the afternoon air. It was a warm reprieve after being in the school all day.

"What do you say to dinner, tonight? My treat," Augustine offered, standing with her at her car.

She smiled at him. "Considering neither of us have assigned anything major at this point, I think that would be a lovely idea," she told him.

With the promise to pick her up around six, the two headed off in separate ways. While the day was long, and the semester uncertain in how smoothly it would or wouldn't go, at least having one of her closest friends to work with made things much easier.


	2. Grand Gulliver

Chapter Two

Grand Gulliver

Digging around her room, Diantha did her best to ignore the snickering coming from her doorway. "Just another minute, please. I know it's around here, somewhere."

One of these days she wouldn't be late for their dinner dates. Their dinner date at the beginning of the school year she had been late getting ready. Now, two dinners later, she was still running late for a reason that could have been avoided. Sometimes he was just too patient of a man.

Augustine laughed, walking away from her room. "Just admit you've lost it," he said, heading towards the living room. The opening and closing of drawers left a grin on his face.

"I did not lose it! I had it over the summer!"

"Just get a new copy." The next slam of a drawer made him regret his words.

With a huff, she came out of her room, straightening out her shirt. "I have to find that one. I've had it since I was in high school," she said, giving him a pointed look.

He laughed, putting his hands up in mock defense. "And that was how long ago?"

She resumed her search, looking over her bookshelf in case she had missed it the two other time she had searched. "Let's see, I turned thirty seven this year, and I got that book when I was…I want to say…sixteen." It wasn't necessarily the book itself that she treasured. It was the memories associated with it. That, and all the notes she had stuck inside it were important.

"Your book is legally allowed to drink here in Cordova," he said after doing the mental math. Twenty one years was a long time to hold onto something. Much longer than he had with really anything.

Rolling her eyes, she forced herself to continue looking around her shelf. It had to be there somewhere. At the very least, she remembered reading it on her flight back from Wevock over the summer, so she couldn't have accidentally left it with Siebold.

"Why do you need to find it so badly?" He asked, walking towards her kitchen.

"I'm assigning it on to my sophomores Monday, and I want to make sure I've read it again over the weekend." The third search of her bookshelf turned up nothing.

Augustine listened for her footsteps, trying to figure where she was heading now. Likely her office. "How many times would you say you've read it?"

He heard a laugh. "Easily fifty times. Likely more."

He shook his head. "Literature teachers," he said under his breath.

Looking over her sparse counters, his eyes landed on a blue, hardback book that was covered by a few letters. The spine was well worn, and the title of _Grand Gulliver_ was just barely legible. " _Grand Gulliver_ , right?" He called, picking up the book and flipping through its pages. How it was still intact was beyond him. His class set of science books that were only two years old showed more wear than it did.

"Yes."

"Kitchen," he responded, laughing to himself as she groaned, melodramatic in true Diantha fashion.

Notes were scrawled in the margins, with many sentences underlined in various ink colors. Sticky notes were placed at the beginning and ends of each chapters, but the only one that really caught his attention was the one he found at the very beginning of the book.

The pink note was well worn, as if it had been taken off and replaced many times. He could just barely make out, _"Thanks for letting me borrow this"_ then a heart followed with the name _"Cynthia"_. In much smaller writing in the corner, _"Still not my favorite book tho"_.

"Are you done reading through my notes?"

He looked up from the book, meeting her blue eyes. "Cynthia? That was your old girlfriend, right? The tall blonde?" He asked, handing her the book.

She laughed in response, opening the book to where he had just been. "Yes. I read this when I was a sophomore, and she didn't read it until she was a senior. She was having trouble with the book, and so I helped her with it."

"And you've kept that note that long? How sweet." There was a sarcastic edge to his tone, making her roll her eyes again.

"I think it's obvious that I have a hard time letting things go," she said, running a finger along the edge of the note, trying to smooth down the corner. With no luck, she put the book back on the counter, making a mental note of where it was at. Hopefully she wouldn't forget again. "But okay! Now that this I know where this is at, we may leave."

With a shake of his head, he followed her out of her house.

Too patient of a man.

* * *

The sounds of people talking soon dwindled away with the approaching closing hour. Soon, the only sound that could be heard were the videos that played on a continuous loop, and Cynthia's own footsteps clicking against the marble floors.

The Friday crowd had been easy enough. Enough tours came through to give her staff in training work, but not enough to where she had to run any of them.

Looking to one of the wall clocks, she knew she had about five minutes to get to Steven's office before she would be interrupted.

While making her way to his office, she kept a careful eye out for any stragglers. The security officers had done their job accordingly, making her walk a quick one.

"Steven, if you have a minute," she said, stepping through the doorway.

"I always have a minute for you, Cynthia," he told her, not looking away from his computer screen. His fingers continued to furiously type away, and she waited for him to stop to begin.

"What do you need?" He asked, giving her his attention.

She took her spot across from him. "I need to ask for a few days off next month. The thirtieth and then the weekend that follows."

His lips curved into a smile. "Am I hearing things correctly?" He asked, amused.

She rolled her eyes, having anticipated the response. "Yes."

"This makes…what? The sixth time in all—" he paused for a few seconds, recalling when he had gotten her the job "—almost eleven years you've worked here? And so soon after asking off to help your sister move?"

"Is this a yes or a no?" She asked, even though she was certain of the answer.

He sat back in his chair, laughing lightly. "Cynthia, you literally have enough accumulated leave to just disappear for well over a month. But what's the occasion if you don't mind me asking?"

"Kay wants me to go with her to Avery's band concert, and then she wants to see me for the weekend," she explained.

He nodded. "That's certainly no trouble. Be sure to tell the both of them I say hello," he told her, turning back to the computer to pull up the schedule sheet.

"Steven~"

Cynthia looked up to the clock on the wall, smiling to herself. Right on time as always.

"And Cynthia too! How are you doing?"

She turned to look up at Steven's husband, giving him a smile. "Wonderful as always, Wallace."

Steven motioned his hand towards her. "Guess who's asking for more time off?"

Wallace gave her a surprised look. "Really?" His expression went more serious. "Do I need to have a talk with him to make sure you get that time off?"

She laughed. "No, he's already told me I could just leave for a month if I wanted to. Might take him up on that offer," she said, looking back at her boss.

Wallace laughed in turn. "If you left for a month, this place would descend into madness."

Steven gave them an indignant look. "I'm not going to deny you're a great employee, but _I'm sitting right here_."  
"No, no, keep telling me how great I am. I could really use it," she said with a grin.

He shook his head, returning his attention to his computer. "I'm not even going to bother. I'm clocking you out, Cynthia, and I'll be ready to leave in about five minutes, Wallace."

Leaning against his desk, Wallace looked to Cynthia. "Meaning another twenty minutes."

She laughed to herself, standing up to take her leave. "I'll see you on Monday, Steven. Have a good weekend, both of you." They wished her well and she was on her way.

While walking to her car, she couldn't help but feel a little envious. Every Friday evening at closing, Wallace would show up to pick up Steven so they could go have dinner together. It was a simple routine, but one that left her feeling envious.

She knew it wasn't something she needed, but the thought of having _something_ like they had was a nice one.

* * *

Avery sat on the couch, book in hand. She had reread the first three chapters twice now, but was still confused. Answering the worksheet questions did little to aid her understanding, which frustrated her. The first book her class read was easy enough, but it had been more straightforward. _Grand Gulliver_ was leaving her feeling like she was being talked in circles.

"Hey, mom?" She asked, looking over to the dinner table.

She continued to fold clothes. "What's up?"

"Did you ever read _Grand Gulliver_?"

She paused, keeping the flannel shirt in her hands. The title alone was enough to trigger a flood of memories. "It's been awhile, but yeah," she answered, resuming her work.

"Like…what's it about? I'm only three chapters in, and I just…I don't understand."

Kay hummed in response, thinking over what she remembered of the book. "Well," she eventually began after a few more shirts had been folded. "Give me a sec."

Grabbing what she had finished, she headed off to her room in search of her phone. Pulling up the recent contact tab she hit Cynthia's name.

After a few rings, _"Didn't we just get off the phone not even ten minutes ago?"_

She snorted. "Hello, again to you too, my dearest, most wonderful sister."

 _"What do you need now?"_ At least her tone sounded more amused than anything.

"Do you remember anything about _Grand Gulliver_?" She asked, putting her shirts away.

There was a laugh on the other end. _"Lord, I haven't thought about that book in years. What about it?"_

"Avery's reading it and doesn't understand it. Books weren't my thing, but whats-her-face really liked that one, right? You remember anything about it?" She didn't need to say her name. Enough old feelings had been resurfaced just by the book's title.

 _"Instead of playing telephone, how about you just hand the phone to Avery."_

"Yeah, give me a minute," she said, heading out of her room to find her daughter. She still was on the couch. "Talk to your aunt," she said, handing over the phone.

She tried to refuse the phone. "But the book —hi aunt Cindy!" She hated talking on the phone more than anything. Even if it was just her aunt.

 _"So you're reading Grand Gulliver, huh?"_

She sighed in relief. "Yeah, and I just…I don't really get it. It just sounds like a big love letter. I mean, I'm only a few chapters in, but? I just?" She complained.

Cynthia laughed in response. _"That's pretty much what I thought at first. I think the best thing I can tell you is this: you're on the right track with the narrator, Vick, being enamored with Gulliver. He's enamored with him to the point that he's not lying, but he's not telling the truth either. As far as credibility goes, Vick is not reliable. In the beginning, he's completely blinded with the image of Gulliver that he has in his mind. I had a…friend, who loved the book way too much, and that was something she always talked about."_

She hummed, thinking everything over. "Y'know…that kinda makes sense now that I think about it. I mean, Gulliver can't be that great, right?"

 _"Exactly. Sure, he's rich and charming, but he's not just that. Later on, Vick realizes that his image of Gulliver is all wrong, but it takes him awhile…"_

* * *

Diantha sat at her desk, finally forcing herself to put the spread of papers and pen down. Looking around her makeshift office, she wanted to concentrate on something, _anything_ , other than marking papers left and right with blue ink. After about five hours, well into her Saturday morning, it was starting to turn into an angry color.  
The grandfather clock that sat at the corner of the room had long stopped ticking, leaving the house all too quiet. If she listened close enough she could hear a car pass by now and then, but other than that, it was silent.

Most nights, it wasn't something she would even notice.  
But on nights like that one, where the day itself had been harder for no reason other than her own anxiety dictating so, it was unbearable.

She had often mulled over the idea of getting a pet. However, with the long stretches of time she spent at the school, she didn't think it would be fair to any animal to keep them without company for so long.

At one point, she had valued all the alone time. With so much of her youth having cameras, directors, costars, and makeup artists in her face, it was nice to be alone. But, slowly over time, the feeling began to turn to bitter loneliness.

With a deep breath, she leaned back in her chair, trying her hardest to force the feeling down.

It would be okay. She would be okay.

No matter what she felt, she didn't need the company of another person to be okay. She had her small circle of friends. She had her job. She had herself.

It would be okay.

It would be okay.

 _It would be okay._  
But no matter how much she tried to assure herself of the statement, she couldn't help but feel that it would at least be nice to have someone.

Looking to her phone, she caught herself wishing that she had taken Augustine up on his offer to keep her company. In the back of her mind, though, she knew better than to give into it. Sure, she adored him and he was a wonderful friend, but he deserved someone who wanted him more often than when she was just lonely.

She was long past forcing feelings to be there when they weren't.

* * *

 _Diantha slapped a hand over her mouth to refrain from laughing as they walked through her house. Cynthia kept by her side, unamused._

 _"I came to you in confidence about this, and you're laughing at me," she grumbled._

 _"No, no! I'm sorry! I don't mean to laugh, honestly!" Little giggles here and there weren't helping her case. "I'm laughing because you had to help me with Runner In The Wild, and now I'm the one helping you."_

 _She opened her bedroom door for Cynthia, allowing her to walk ahead. Out of politeness, of course. Not because she liked watching the way her friend's hair swayed when pulled back in a ponytail._

 _"That's because you hated that book, and I thought it was good."_

 _That forced Diantha to pull herself out of her trance. She wouldn't stand for that injustice. "Runner In The Wild was terrible!"_

 _Her scowl finally started turning into a grin. "What was is he loved to call people that upset you?"_

 _Door closed, she marched up to her. "Don't you dare say it."_

 _If she wasn't so much shorter, she was sure they'd be in each other's faces at that point. "Oh, that's right!"_

 _"No!" She stood on her toes, still not quite eye level with her._

 _It was too much fun to tease her. "Don't be such a_ phony _, Diantha."_

 _She threw her head back, groaning with as much aguish as her body could muster. "I can't believe I call you my best friend."_

 _Now Cynthia was the one laughing. It was no wonder she was auditioning for a part in a melodrama. "C'mon, you big phony."_

 _"I hate you," she whined. She betrayed her words by throwing her arms around Cynthia and resting her head on her chest._

 _She continued laughing, putting her arms around her in turn. "No you don't, you phony."_

 _"I guess I don't. But if you keep calling my a phony—" Cynthia maybe just adored the way she said that stupid word "—I might have to reconsider."_

 _She hummed in response, but said nothing further, not wanting to ruin the moment. Though, the longer they stood together, the more she worried Diantha might take notice of her heartbeat._

 _She had noticed it from the start, but said nothing. Forcing herself away, she grabbed for Cynthia's hands. "Oh! I just remembered!" She said, pulling her towards the balcony. "The magnolia tree is finally blooming!"_

 _Every year since they became friends, whenever Cynthia would come over, they would sit out on her balcony for hours on end, watching the world go by as they talked about anything and everything. Cynthia's favorite part of the view was the magnolia tree whenever it would start to bloom in spring._

 _After a bit of silence, "Your eighteenth birthday is coming up," Cynthia commented, glancing over at her._

 _"I know. I'm going to be an old lady, just like you!" She teased._

 _Cynthia rolled her eyes, half tempted to call her a phony again, just to razz her. "Are you ever going to tell me what you want?"_

 _She shook her head as she began to pull her hair out of its braid. "I've already told you. I just want to spend the day with you, my dear Cynthia."_

 _She wanted to press the topic further, but the new use of 'dear Cynthia' caught her off guard. It was something Diantha's mother did, but different. When her mother used it, it sounded sarcastic and as though she wanted something from whoever she was calling dear. When Diantha said it, there was something about it that made her anxious._

 _It was only within the last few months that Diantha herself had begun to use it. With every time she used it, she thought she was going to come unglued and say something she would later regret._

 _"I know that," she finally managed. "But something physical I can give you."_

 _Diantha felt her face grow warm at the first idea that came to mind. She couldn't even look at her as she said, "I just want to spend the day with you. Nothing more." Instead, she watched the magnolia tree's blooms below them._

 _"You thought of something." Though, what that something was remained largely unknown to Cynthia. Whatever it was, it left her with a noticeable blush._

 _"Don't worry about it. Please."_

 _Instead of trying to push her further, she decided it was best to try to change the subject. "Well, what about Grand Gulliver."_

 _"Right! Well, think of the beginning as…someone who is speaking of how enamored they are with someone else. How Vick speaks of Gulliver isn't really realistic," she explained, bringing them back into her room._

 _She shrugged. "I guess I can see that."_

 _"For about the first half of the book he only talks about the good he sees in Gulliver. Or, at least, the good he thinks he sees in him. He's not a reliable narrator."_

 _"But it's in Vick's point of view? How can he be unreliable?" She asked, sitting with her at the edge of her bed._

 _"When you're enamored with someone—" she noted that she was no longer looking at her "—you don't really speak of the bad qualities, or you make excuses for them. It's not until later that he finally sees them, and then he has to go through this whole thing of deciding if he wants to accept Gulliver for who he really is."_

 _Cynthia gave it a few moments of thought. "So…they're in love?"_

 _Diantha laughed, shaking her head. "Not exactly. It's never explicitly stated, but…I always felt Vick was at least in love with the idea of who he thought Gulliver was. I got good grades for talking about it at least! And my teacher said I was right about him being an unreliable narrator!"_

 _"So you're telling me to plagiarize?"_

 _Diantha huffed, laying back on her bed. "No," she said, dragging it out. "I'm pointing something out to you. Once you see that, it will change how you view the book…Maybe."_

 _Cynthia hummed in acknowledgment, laying next to her. Maybe it changed her view on the book. Maybe not…_


	3. Breathe

Chapter Three

Breathe

Cynthia messed with the cuff of her black shirt, fighting with the button that refused to stay in place. All considering, she was in a good mood. She had found a replacement for their temporary exhibit that was about to return to its owner, and it had all been done before her first tour group of the morning.

"Hey, you need help with that?"  
The redheaded desk attendant caught her attention. Grimacing in defeat, she walked over to her. "Yeah, probably."

She stood up, reaching for Cynthia's hand.

"How's your morning been, Skyla?" She asked, watching her mess with the button.

She forced a quick laugh. "Been better, Cynthia," she answered.

"Getting close to midterms?" She guessed, taking her hand back once she was done. Being one of her personal hires, she tended to take more interest in how she was doing more so than some of the other employees. She was only a part-time employee, finishing up her aviation degree at the local university, so it was only around the weekends that she actually saw her.

Skyla shook her head, sitting back down. "No, not yet. Just dumb personal stuff continuing from last week," she answered.

She hummed in response, leaning against the desk. "Did you follow any of my advice?"

Her sheepish look told her all she needed to know. "No," she said, dragging it out.

Cynthia laughed lightly, pushing off the desk. "I'm telling you, you just have to go for it. She's your best friend. You having romantic feelings for her isn't likely to change that."

She gave a noncommittal shrug. "It's just…yeah, she's my best friend, but she's on her way to being a model, and I'm just…I'm just me."

It almost made her laugh. Maybe her attachment to Skyla came from how much she saw herself in her. "Trust me. Been there, except for being a model, my friend was on her way to being a movie star. I sat on my feelings for too long, and my confession was _messy_." She hadn't thought about it in years but the memory was still clear as day.

"I wanna hear about that one day," Skyla responded with a grin.

"Make some progress with Elesa and I'll consider it." Digging up those old memories more than she already had might not be fun, but if it got Skyla to stop being so mopey in the morning, maybe it would be worth it. Besides, she had faith that her friend felt the same. Just from the day Elesa came to visit her she could see that there was _something_ between them. The only problem was that they were both dancing around their feelings, likely worried for the exact same reasons.

Skyla shrugged, looking over to the entrance as the doors opened. Some school busses had pulled up just as the man and woman walked in.

"Good morning!" Skyla greeted, putting on a smile.

The man returned the greeting, looking between Skyla and Cynthia. "I'm Damion Maddow, and this is Samira Ravenna my student teacher. We're apart of the Riverbend Elementary group that's touring today."  
"Of course! I'll get you checked in, and Cynthia here is one of our curators, and will actually be your guide today!" Skyla introduced.

Cynthia nodded, stepping forward with an extended hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you both," she said, shaking Damion's hand. She turned to Samira to do the same. Her bright smile and rich brown eyes momentarily captivated her.

Once done speaking with them, and giving them the appropriate amount of arm bands to distribute, she turned back to Skyla. Now she was grinning at her. "What?"

Skyla raised her eyebrows. "She was _so_ checking you out."

Cynthia rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."

"She so was. Trust me. When you were talking to him, she would give you a look over, and man. Trust me," she said with a laugh.

"She's probably your age, so that's a definite no from me," she said, watching as she then rolled her eyes.

"You're no fun, Cynthia," she whined.

"I'm a tour guide with a job to get to," she responded, turning back towards the entrance as the students began to file into the building. The day had begun, and she was looking forward to it.

Elementary schools were among her favorite tour groups. Unlike high schoolers, or even middle schoolers, they were generally eager to explore and learn. They would ask the most off the wall, yet inspired, questions. There was a genuine passion behind their every word.

Sure, a good number of the questions she would be asked didn't pertain to what they were talking about, but there was something charming in that. Besides, she didn't want to be someone who trampled over their curiosities just because it wasn't related. It wouldn't make them want to learn.

While in the geology wing, a young boy who barely stood height with her hip wandered up to her, asking, "What would happen if everyone on the planet jumped at the same time?" His tone was very serious.

She fought the temptation to laugh. It was close enough to geology, anyways, so she might as well entertain it. "That is a very interesting question." She glanced up at Samira, who was looking as amused as she felt. Her focus remained on Cynthia, as is waiting for an answer. "Everyone on our planet is spread out enough that nothing would really happen, because all the jumps would just cancel each other out." She started to second-guess herself. Had that been simple enough?

"Hmmm," the young boy responded, rubbing his chin very dramatically. "But what if we all got in one spot?" He continued, much to her relief.

"That might make a difference, but it would probably be very, very small."

"Darn," was all he responded with before turning back to one of the displays. To that, she allowed a quick giggle. Why it ended up being such a disappointment to him, she would never know. At the very least, she was thrilled she actually had an answer for him.

"Sorry about that," Samira said, approaching Cynthia once more.

She waved it off. "I was actually asked that not too long ago, and so I'm just glad I had an answer."

She was about to say something else when a wave caught both their attention.

For the past minute or so, one of the other guides had been trying to grab Cynthia's attention. Now that they were at a spot where they kids could be turned loose, it was as good of a time as any to speak with him.

"Excuse me just one minute," she said before dashing off.

David gave her an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry to interrupt, but Steven says he needs to see you right now," he told her.

"Even though I'm in the middle of a tour?" She asked, trying to imply that this had to be more important. Though, Steven wasn't known to ask for her to abandon her tour groups. Her curiosity was going to get the better of her eventually.

He shook his head. "He said it's an emergency. Something about a phone call? I'll take over your group, don't worry."

Her heart dropped, and her mind jumped to about fifty different conclusions. The only person who would call her for an emergency would be her sister. She wasn't sure what she would do if anything had happened to Avery.

With a quick apology, she introduced him to the teachers, then headed off towards Steven's office. The look he gave her when she walked in only increased her worry.

"Cynthia," he began, standing up from his desk. "I'm sorry to pull you from your group, but there's a call for you and it sounds serious." He motioned towards the phone before walking out of the office to give her some privacy. "It's on hold."

She took a quick breath before picking up the phone and taking it off hold. "Hello?"

 _"Miss Cynthia Jenness?"_ The gruff male voice took her by surprise.

"Yes, this is her." She felt her voice crack. Fifty new conclusions.

 _"This is Officer Bayer with the Easton Police. I hate to call you at this time, but your sister, Kay Beecher, has been admitted into the Easton Hospital."_

She felt her knees wanting to give out under her. "Is she okay?" Was all she could think to ask.

 _"She was admitted for appendicitis, and is in emergency surgery. She will likely be in the hospital for a day or so for recovery, and we need to see if you will be able to care for her child who is at school right now."_

Her hands were shaking at that point. "Yes, yes! I will— I will leave work immediately. It will take me about an hour to get to Easton…"

He asked a few more questions and gave some vague instructions, but with her mind racing a mile a minute, she could hardly concentrate on any of it.

Slamming the phone down, she tried to figure out what she needed to do first.

"Cynthia—"

"Steven! I have to leave! I'm sorry! I—" she raked her fingers through her hair.

He had barely stepped foot back into his office when she tried to storm out. "Hey, wait!" He knew the frantic tone of her voice. He hated grabbing her arm, but he couldn't in clear conscience let her storm off without at least knowing what was wrong.

"Kay's in the hospital I have to go, _now_."

The storm in her eyes made him recoil a bit, but he kept a steady grip on her arm. "Cynthia, listen to me, _breathe_. You can leave, but I need you to breathe first. I don't want you getting yourself in a car wreck on the way to Easton."

As much as she wanted to just rip out of his grasp, she understood the sentiment. Getting there maybe a minute sooner likely wouldn't change anything. After a few deep breaths, she looked him in the eyes again. "Okay, I'm good. Thank you, but I need to leave."

He let go of her. "Be safe, and let me know if you need anything."

With a nod, she was out the door.

* * *

Diantha walked around the classroom at a leisurely pace, looking up from her book as she posed a question to her class. "So, what do we know about Mr. Gulliver at this point? Is he really all that grand?" She posed.

After a few seconds of silence, Avery's hand shot into the air, much to Diantha's inner amusement. Any question she asked, she was always ready to give an answer. It was a saving grace, but at the same time, she was worried her class was growing too dependent on her answering everything.

Giving her class a few seconds, she instead called on Lina.  
"Oh, uh…Vick really seems to like him, I guess?" She answered, unsure.

She smiled at her. "Good observation! Is there anything we can infer from this?"

Avery's hand went right back in the air, and the look in her eye told Diantha she couldn't pass up whatever answer she had. "Avery?"

"He's not a reliable narrator!" She said, more excited than normal.

"Excellent! But elaborate a little further, please." She was thrilled beyond belief. Normally she had to bring that to her classes' attention.

She started to gesture with her hands. "He's like…He sounds so—" what was the word her aunt had used? "Enamored! With what he thinks Gulliver is! He doesn't want to really see him as anything other than a cool rich dude."

She bit her tongue to keep herself from laughing at her choice of wording. "How did you come to that conclusion?"

She shrugged. "The way Vick describes him sounds so fake."

"You know? That's what I was thinking!" The girl next to her added. "Just —he can't be _that_ cool."

A murmur of agreement passed over the class, bringing a small sense of satisfaction to her. So far everything was going very smoothly.

The rest of the class passed in similar fashion, making her hopeful that her other classes would be catching on as well. With the approaching end of the block, she returned to her desk to grab the set of worksheets for the next few chapters.

As she neared the other side of the room, she happened to glance out the window into the visitor parking lot. The person walking towards the building caught her attention. Their long blonde hair, pulled back in what distantly looked like a ponytail, stood out to her.

However, being on the second floor, the complete details of the person were lost to her. Maybe they were tall, maybe not.

"Mrs. Gardner…?"

She jumped at her name, turning towards the row of desks. Handing the small stack of papers to Ian, she laughed lightly at herself. "Sorry about that. I thought I saw someone I knew. Anyways," she began, moving to the next row of desks. "This is a worksheet to go along with the next two chapters. Have that done by class tomorrow."

* * *

Cynthia sat in her car for a few seconds, looking up at the high school in front of her. She had hardly stopped shaking since she left the museum, but didn't want to go into the school looking like a mess. With one last deep breath, forcing herself to be as calm as possible, she got out of the car and made her way into the school.

Looking around the hallway, the school's main office seemed to be on the right. If all else failed, she'd just play dumb until she got directions on where to go.

"Hi! How can I help you?" The young girl, maybe a senior, said, standing up from her chair.

"I'm here to sign out Avery Beecher," she said, approaching the counter.

She nodded. "Your name?"

"Cynthia Jenness. I'm her aunt." Was that necessary? She wasn't too sure.

The girl ducked away into one of the side offices. "Miss Amy, we need to sign out Avery Beecher. Her aunt is here to get her."

The distinct sound of a rolling chair on linoleum followed her exit of the room. The girl returned behind the counter, sitting in front of the computer.

A tall woman strolled out of the room, greeting Cynthia with a smile. "I'll need to see some ID."

Cynthia dug her wallet out of her back pocket, struggling to get the ID out of its sleeve. The woman barely glanced at it.

"This might take a minute or two. The bell's about to ring, and so the school's about to go to lunch. Rachel, pull up her schedule. Maybe we can catch her in whatever class she's in now."

"Alright," Cynthia answered, tapping her fingers on the counter.

Rachel hummed, grabbing for the office phone. "Looks like she's in Gardner's class right now." She said, just in time for the bell to ring. "I'll see if she can get her before she leaves."

She spoke with the teacher briefly, then looked to Cynthia with a smile as she put the phone away. "She'll be here shortly."

Amy looked to Cynthia once more, passing her a sign out sheet. "Just sign here, print please, and put the time."

Cynthia snatched the pen, hastily writing things down. By that point, she was too anxious to worry whether or not she was overtly showing it. She just wanted confirmation that her sister was going to be alright.

After a few minutes, "Aunt Cynthia?"

She turned to the door, relieved to see her niece. "Hey, Avery."

Confusion was clear across her face. "Why are you here?" That attracted the attention of the office workers.

She wanted to wait until they were in her car before she started explaining, but with the office workers now listening in, she might as well get it over with.

How such a promising day had gone to hell so quickly was beyond her…


	4. Parent Teacher Conference

Chapter Four

Parent Teacher Conference

The emergency surgery that was supposed to last one, maybe two, hours, ended up being an all-day ordeal. A bunch of medical jargon had been thrown at Cynthia and Avery, and all they had gathered was Kay's appendix ruptured during operation, and that there were other complications.

Eventually, after sitting in the waiting room for more than a few hours, Cynthia forced the two of them to go get dinner. Neither could really force themselves to eat, too worried about Kay. Hardly a word had been spoken the whole time.

It was well into the night by the time Kay was allowed visitors, but even then, she was groggy and hardly responsive from all the medications. The only thing she was able to register was that it was Cynthia with her daughter, bringing to her a fit of tears. She kept saying things like, "Thank god it's you and not Oliver" and "I was so worried they were going to call Oliver". It hadn't even crossed Cynthia's mind that they might call her ex husband in instead of her.

Sated that she was at least in stable condition, Cynthia figured it would be best to take Avery home. All day she had chastised herself for taking her from school early, but with so many unknown variables of when and how she left school, there wasn't much else she could have done.

"Aunt Cynthia," Avery began, dropping her backpack at the dining room table. "Can…can I stay home tomorrow?" She would only be missing Friday, giving herself a long weekend.

Cynthia reasoned that she probably wouldn't be able to concentrate anyways. "Sure, but you'll have to go back on Monday, okay?"

"Actually, we don't have school Monday. It's parent teacher conference day, and apparently my school takes all day for it. Something about giving parents a lot of time to come see the teachers," she explained, watching the disbelief on her aunt's face.

"You sure?"

She nodded. "I promise I asked multiple times. My homeroom teacher assured me that we don't have school on Monday."

Too tired and emotionally exhausted to dispute it, she agreed, telling her that she would see her in the morning. For now, she needed to give Steven an update and let him know that she wouldn't be at work for awhile. Once Kay was able to come home, she would need at least a week of recovery, and there was no way she was going to let that all fall onto Avery's shoulders.

Sleep was another thing she sorely needed.

With a half-assed text summary to Steven, she made her way to Kay's room. As tempting as the couch was, she wanted a bed. Her room was disorganized as it had always been, bringing a small smile to her face. Some things never changed.

The hospital around them finally began to ease into a relative silence. All afternoon it had been chaotic, with two patients at the end of the hall taking up most of the nurses' time.

"Still can't believe you suckered your aunt into a four day weekend," Kay said, forcing an even tone.

Avery rolled her eyes, looking at her mom from her chair. "Mom, that was Friday. Today's Sunday."

She shrugged, trying to not show too much pain in the motion. "I've watched enough terrible reality tv to where it's all the same to me."

Cynthia shook her head, sitting on the chair across the room. Rain beat against the window, with the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the gloomy sky. "You can change the channel, you know," she teased.

"Nurse moved the remote, and I don't remember where he put it. Besides, now I _have_ to find out what happens to Stefan and Jolie." At that point, she was about half-serious. Part of her was invested in the stupid daytime tv program, the other half said it was only the pain meds talking.

Cynthia leaned forward, looking up at the mounted tv. "I can't believe that show is still going."

"You're telling me. It's all the same plot, though. I don't even want to know what filming for that is like."

It suddenly reminded Avery of something she had been meaning to say. "Oh yeah! Speaking of filming," she began, waiting for their attention. "I've been hearing rumors from some of the band kids that one of my teachers, Mrs. Gardner, used to be a movie star!"

Kay laughed, the sound ending in something more painful. "If she was a movie star, why is she teaching?" She asked, taking a deep breath. It was getting close to her next dosage, so everything was starting to hurt more.

Cynthia shrugged in response, keeping a careful eye on her sister. "Honestly, I wouldn't blame her. A girl I was dating—" reminders of her had been coming up too frequently as of late "—was an actress, and I got to go with her for filming once. Every five minutes you see takes about 12 hours on a good day."

Avery's face turned to disgust. "That's horrible! Who would want to do that?"

"She loved it, and I don't know how. I was bored out of my mind the whole time." How Diantha handled redoing the same scene all day was a feat all in its own. Just one week of sitting on set about drove her insane.

The sound of a phone vibrating on the table caught Avery's attention. Reaching for her phone, she pulled up the text message. "I'll be right back? My section leader is here and said she wanted to give me something. Probably whatever I missed on Friday."

Once she was out of the room, Kay looked back to Cynthia. "Speaking of her, what do you think Diantha's up to now? Don't know if she's made any new movies, but not like I've ever bothered to check."

"First off, I've already had enough weird reminders of her, thank you. But, I don't know. Don't know, don't care," she answered, hoping she would drop the subject.

She shrugged, adjusting how she was sitting, silently begging for her nurse to come give her next dose already. "Hey, while I'm thinking about her teachers, I need a favor."

"What?"

She looked unsure, but maybe that was also the lack pain meds. "Normally, I probably wouldn't care too much. Avery's a good student, but…could I ask you to go to parent teacher conferences for me on Monday? Like…yeah, she's a good student, I usually call it 'brag about my kid night', but I just want to make sure she's really settling in. It's her second new school, and I just want to make sure she's doing okay. Not just grade wise."

There was no way she could say no to that. "Yeah, that's no problem."

"You're the best, Cindy."

She laughed through her nose at the nickname. Avery was more likely to use it than her, but they were the only two people she would ever allow to use it.

The door opened, bringing Kay's nurse and Avery, who was now carrying a large bouquet of flowers. "Special delivery, miss Kay," her nurse said in his deep, soothing voice.

"Mom! Check it out! This is from my section!" She said, bringing it over to the side table.

She was almost at a loss for words. "That's so sweet of them. How did they…?"

"I texted my section leader on Thursday telling her I would be absent, and why, and she said she wanted to do something for you. She also got the band to sign this card!" She said, handing her the large, handmade card.

"Sounds like you've got a good group of friends," The nurse said, walking over to the monitor, checking a few things.

Maybe it was the combination of medicine that was wearing off, pain, and the touching gesture from a group of kids who barley knew her child, Kay found herself tearing up a bit. "I knew I picked a good school district," she said, trying to play it off…

* * *

Walking through the halls of Easton High School, Cynthia found herself feeling more out of place than she had imagined she would. The layout was odd, and it left her feeling turned around at times. Thankfully, Avery had zero trouble navigating the school.

Part of her also felt bad for not knowing the kinds of questions she should have been asking the teachers, but at least none of them had anything negative to say so far. Kay had been right. It was fairly appropriate to call it "brag about my kid night".

"Last one?" Cynthia asked, looking down at her niece.

She nodded. "Yeah, Mrs. Gardner. She's my lit teacher. The one I said was a movie star," she joked.

Turning down the hallway, Avery kept the lead, taking them to where the hallway then turned to a T.

With the door being closed, the two waited outside, leaning against the blue lockers. "How do you think you're doing in this class?" Cynthia asked, as she had before the others.

Avery shrugged. "Okay, I think? We've only had a few tests so far. As long as I repeat a lot of what she's said, I think I get pretty good grades. Progress report was an A, so…" she trailed off.

The door cracked open, and the sound of voices talking filtered out. The sound of a certain laugh caught Cynthia's attention. The pitch and way the sound moved was eerily familiar. But the person she was wanting to connect it to wasn't likely to be there as well, she tried to reason.

Then again, this was the teacher who had rumors of an acting career, and _Gardner…_

She forced the thought down as she pushed herself off the lockers. The other parents left, thanking the teacher for her time. The sight of the teacher who followed them out brought Cynthia to a half, her shoes making a loud click.

"Hello, to…" Diantha's greeting died on her tongue at the sight of Cynthia, who was staring at her, eyes wide with disbelief. "Oh, dear lord." For a moment, it didn't feel real. There was no way it was _Cynthia_ standing in front of her.

Avery looked on, not sure why her teacher and aunt were staring at each other. The silence between them was tense.

"Cynthia?" Diantha finally asked, once she was sure that it was in fact not some sort of delusion.

"Diantha," Cynthia replied, forcing herself to be more calm.

The use of first names told Avery most of what she needed to know. "You know each other?" She asked.

Diantha nodded, slowly. "Yes…it's just….it's been a few years."

"Thirteen years," Cynthia filled in.

Her tone was enough to tell Avery that she wasn't exactly pleased to see her, and she was starting to connect the dots. Her hands began to shake as she struggled with figuring out what to do or at least say.

Diantha, meanwhile, was trying to work out the mental math. Avery had been 3 when she last saw her, but she had the Jenness last name. With her being with Cynthia, it worried her that something might have happened to Kay, and that Cynthia was now married.

There were hundreds of questions she now had, and it killed to her to know she couldn't ask a single one of them. "Yes….thirteen…." she began, ungracefully. "Why don't you two come in?"

To some degree, it was fascinating to Avery. Never once had she seen her teacher so flustered. She was always so poised and proper. To see her like this was an experience she wouldn't forget.

Sitting behind her desk, she invited the two of them to sit in the chairs in front of her.

Cynthia noticed very quickly how neat and orderly the room was.

"I…I hadn't slightest idea that I was teaching your niece. Is…everything alright with Kay?" That was, hopefully, a safe enough question.

Arms crossed, Cynthia sat back in her chair, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible. "She's in the hospital right now. Appendicitis."

Her blue eyes widened. "Oh, goodness! My condolences. I hadn't known."

"She's getting better. I'm just helping out until she's able to come home," she told her, point blank, leaving silence to follow once more.

For the two of them, it was surreal seeing the other. It was hard to not just stare at one another, taking in what had all visibly changed in their time apart. Facial features had matured, hairstyles had changed, and both their clothing styles were nothing like they had been in their 20's —a thing that was probably for the best, regardless.

For Cynthia, the feeling was quickly growing bitter. It had been years since she last allowed herself to really think about Diantha. Sure, in her talks with Skyla and Kay, those memories had been dug up a bit, but nothing like this. To be faced with her, still lacking an explanation for everything, was bitter.

Diantha, on the other hand, was tapping into all her old acting experience to not show how much just it was shaking her. She felt her hands wanting to tremble as she dug her nails into her palm. It took more than everything she had in her to not display how emotional she was wanting to get over it.

"So," Avery began, breaking the tense silence of their staring match. "How's my grade?"

Embarrassment washed over Diantha. "Right! Yes!" She turned to her computer, pulling up the grade sheet. Looking between them and her screen, she found it most easy to talk when avoiding eye contact. "Avery is doing wonderfully. Her last test grade was a little lower than normal," she observed, making sure she was correct in saying so. "But I plan on dropping the lowest grade at the end of the semester, so it's not likely anything to worry about." Now she had to look at them again.  
"Otherwise," she continued, "she's a joy to have in class. She's one of my students I can always count on to have an answer if the rest of the class doesn't have one."

As brief as it all had been, and it had been the quickest meeting yet, Cynthia couldn't stand another second of it. "Well," she began, looking to Avery, "that's all your mom sent me to do, so let's get going." Standing, she gave a curt, "Thank you" to Diantha. She had been tempted to leave without even that. Maybe even rub it in that she was leaving without an explanation, but that would have maybe been too callous.

Following them out the door, Diantha kept a safe distance. "It was…lovely seeing you, Cynthia? I wish the circumstances were…different," she said, regretting some of her choice in wording.

Cynthia nodded, but said nothing else.

She stood in the doorway, watching them walk away. Cynthia said something to Avery, and she could only imagine what it might have been.

"Wait a minute, was that….?"

She looked over to see Augustine approaching.

It meant that parent teacher conferences was finally close to over if he was coming to see her, but all she could do was resume looking ahead. "Avery Beecher is Cynthia's niece," she told him. "I'm teaching my ex girlfriend's niece, Augustine. I once held one of my students when they were a baby. When she was learning to walk, her first steps were into my arms! I remember because I made her entire family jealous! H-How am I supposed to remain impartial now?" How she hadn't seen the resemblance?

"Hey, it's-" she cut him off.

"I should have realized! H-her whole face is Kay when she was sixteen! Her shade of blonde —of course she's related to Cynthia!" She was visibly shaking at that point.

Augustine watched his friend basically short circuit. While she rambled on, he tried to think of something to comfort her with. However, it was the first time he had ever had another teacher in this situation…

* * *

"You could have warned me that your teacher was my ex girlfriend," Cynthia said, looking down at Avery. Though, in all fairness, she felt she should have put it all together sooner.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Cynthia! I didn't know! Honestly!"

Cynthia forced herself to laugh, not wanting to get mad at her niece for something she had no control over. "Your mother is going to _love_ this."


	5. Memories

Chapter Five

Memories

Kay kept a steady gaze on the tv, thoroughly bored with the evening news. It had hit the point in the night where they were just recycling stories from earlier. She wasn't sure how much longer she could take it. With a lack of positive response from everything aside from pain medicine, there was a chance she'd be stuck in the hospital all week.

Whenever Cynthia got back she would have to be sure to beg her to bring her something else to entertain her.  
With a grumble and grunt, she adjusted how she was sitting. Laying in bed for nearly four days sounded great in theory, but was downright terrible in practice. With the remote once again out of reach, she resigned herself to her fate of evening news.  
The sound of the door opening caught her attention. She lulled her head to the side, instantly brightening up when she saw her daughter and sister walking through the door. "So, how was brag about my kid day?" She asked, laughing to herself as Avery rolled her eyes at her.

"Good," Cynthia answered, standing at the foot of the bed while Avery took the chair next to her mother.

Kay raised an eyebrow. Her tone and body language was far too tense for it to have been good. "That wasn't very convincing," she pointed out, looking to her daughter. For a split second, she worried they were going to have bad news about her grades.

Avery laughed nervously. "Turns out you guys know one of my teachers!"

She looked back to Cynthia, who was now very exasperated. "Did you even look at Avery's schedule? Like, the full names of the teachers?"

She was taken aback. "Pretty sure I did? But I mean, I don't think I saw anyone that sounded familiar?"

"Gardner?"

Kay searched her memory, but she couldn't recall whether or not that rung a bell.

"In mom's defense, I'm pretty sure her name is listed as Ann, not-"

" _Diantha_."

In that instant, everything clicked. The stars and planets themselves had aligned and it all made sense. Ann Gardner. _Diantha_ Ann Gardner. A laugh almost escaped her. It hurt to hold it in. "Oh my fucking god, _you're kidding me._ "

Cynthia shook her head. "I wish I was. It was her. Plain as day. My ex. She's teaching your daughter. Of all the luck." Her forced monotone really sold it.

Kay covered her mouth, biting her lip to try and avoid laughing. "Oh my god, Cynthia…I'm so sorry! I had no idea! I-I mean, also in my defense, I forgot she changed her last name but—" she stopped, finally unable to resist laughing. She looked to her daughter. "You even told me that she had an accent," she said, imitating Diantha's accent.

Cynthia looked on, at least glad to see her in good spirits. "I'm going to run to the restroom. I'll be back."

"Don't get lost," Kay said, watching her leave.

Avery waited a few seconds, not wanting to risk Cynthia overhearing what she was going to ask. "Mom," she began, refacing her, "did aunt Cindy and…Mrs. Gardner or…Diantha? Have a bad breakup? Because I've never seen Mrs. Gardner that freaked out, and Aunt Cindy looked _really_ unhappy to see her."

She rolled her eyes before forcing herself to sit up. The simple motion stung. "I want you out of her class. That woman…she messed Cindy up. I mean…" She sighed. "I didn't want to have this conversation with you yet, but oh well. Here we are, I guess. She walks back in though, I'm changing the subject."

"Okay," she agreed.

"You obviously know I had you when I was sixteen. Cynthia was dating Diantha at the time, and they're both pretty much the reason I was able to finish high school. When they weren't in their college classes, or doing something for her stupid filming, they were helping me with you, that way I didn't have to put a lot of it on Gram. I thought they were gonna get married, honestly. As far as I could see, everything was heading in that direction." Her voice almost sounded wistful at that. "But then, one morning, Diantha showed up at Cynthia's door, told her they were over, and wouldn't explain any more than that. Then right around the time Gram died she got engaged to some shitty guy, and I dunno. It was all weird, and I've never forgiven her."

It felt odd to know these things about her teacher. Especially when her previous opinion of her was positive. She almost didn't want to believe her mother. Surly her sweet-natured teacher wouldn't just walk out without explaining. Maybe Cynthia hadn't explained everything. Maybe her mother had missed something…

"How old was I when she left?"

"About three, I think. Why?"

The whole ride over to the hospital, she had been trying to piece things together better. While doing that, she remembered something from when she was really young. Though, it was one of those memories that might have been a dream she had as a child that she was now passing off as a memory. "I…I think I remember her, actually. Not clearly. I've always had this weird memory, but I wasn't sure who it was about because I had to be little." It would also explain why Mrs. Gardner had always been so familiar to her.

She gave her a confused look. "You can remember something from when you were three?" There was no way.

Pulling her glasses off, she wiped the lenses on her shirt. "I…I mean, maybe it's just a dream I had, but I dunno."

"Well, go for it." Couldn't hurt anyways.

"I remember walking up to a tall woman—" Diantha wasn't tall so strike one "—and throwing my arms up like this." She shoved her glasses back on before demonstrating. "She picked me up, and then I looked at you and aunt Cindy, and then smiled while she laughed."

Suddenly, she wasn't so sure anymore. That was something Avery liked to do as a child, but only for Diantha. "Do you remember what you would call her?"

The door opened right as she asked that.

Avery was quick to try to change the subject. "But all my grades are good and—"

Cynthia chuckled. "You called her Dan for the longest time." She looked to her sister. "C'mon, I'm not stupid. I knew you were going to talk about this when I left."

Kay started laughing, figuring it wasn't worth avoiding. "Yeah, this tiny, very feminine woman, and you'd just call her Dan."

Cynthia shrugged, running a hand through her bangs. "Eventually it turned to 'Dannie'. It was really cute, actually. The second we would come see you two, there would these little feet running across the wood floor, and then at the top of your shrill little three year old lungs, 'Aunt Cindy! Dannie!'" Thinking on it, it really was one of her favorite memories.

Avery's cheeks went red with embarrassment. "Can we not?" She groaned while her mother and aunt continued to snicker at her.

* * *

Diantha moved about her home, trying to distract herself from her night that was far more eventful than she had anticipated.

Sure, she had expected some arguments with parents who would believe their lying student over her. She had expected not seeing the parents she really needed to see, and seeing many parents she didn't _really_ need to see.

However, never would she have anticipated seeing Cynthia of all people.

It had been thirteen years since they last saw one another —as Cynthia had so bitterly reminded her. The look of fire in her eyes was hardly any different than it would have been from when they were younger. Even if her features had matured just as hers had, there was still so much there that was still the Cynthia she had known years ago. Noticeable even in just a few minutes.

Sitting at her table, it was almost haunting to have seen her. The fire that was in her eyes instantly upon seeing her. It hurt in some ways, but in others, she couldn't blame her if she still bared a grudge against her. She had left abruptly, and only once made the motion to ever contact her again.

Then again, Cynthia had never reached out. But that hadn't been in her nature.

Her phone vibrated against her table, pulling her from her thoughts.

 _Siebold: I'm home. Call me whenever you are ready_

She smiled, more pleased than ever that he was home.

Adjusting herself, she hit the video call option. Within a few rings, he picked up.

"My dear Siebold!"

He smiled at her. _"Good to hear from you, Diantha."_

"How are you doing? I've been so busy with schoolwork that I can't remember the last time we were able to talk!" They hadn't had a full conversation since her visit over the summer.

 _"It has been awhile. I'm doing very well. The new restaurant is running smoothly. Cress should be home here soon."_

She smiled. "How are the two of you doing?"

The camera finally stopped moving as he settled himself on his couch. _"Excellent. He was handling things at Apple of the Earth tonight."_

"That's so good to hear."

He gave her a look. _"What about you, though? You normally wait until the weekend to ever call me."_

She looked away. He still knew her better than anyone.

 _"You seem troubled? Are you alright?"_

She almost smiled at his tone. It was his tone that said, "I will fly out to see you if you need me to".

"I…how do I even begin…" she laughed, trying to play it off as lightly as possible. "It was parent teacher conference tonight, and…I ran into Cynthia."

He looked taken aback. " _Cynthia? As in your ex girlfriend?_ "

She smiled while rolling her eyes. "No, the Cynthia who ran the flower stand— _yes_ , as in my ex!"

He laughed at her briefly. _"It's been well over 10 years since I last saw her. She has a child?"_

She shook her head. "No, no. Kay's daughter, Avery. She was about three when we last saw her. I don't know the full story, but Kay's in the hospital right now, and Cynthia's helping out. It was…oh dear lord it was surprising to see her."

 _"I…I don't know what to tell you, Diantha."_

"It's just…I don't know how to feel, honestly."

 _"Did you not realize upfront she was Kay's daughter?"_

"She has a different last name than when I last saw her! It's Beecher now, not Jenness. I'm sure there's a whole story there, but…I guess I'll never know." And if there was one thing she was dying to know, it was about that.

 _"You won't get in trouble for teaching her, will you? Since now that you know you, well…know her?"_

She shook her head. "No. Once Augustine calmed me down, he went with me to talk to the principal and a few others. They're just going to move her from my class tomorrow. Such a shame, too. She really is a wonderful student…"

* * *

Cynthia stood in front of the dresser, placing her phone atop it. Hitting speaker, she pulled her hair out of its ponytail while waiting for Steven to pick up. While she had been texting him of how things were going, everything she had to say would go much quicker in a call.

 _"Cynthia! I was wondering when I was going to hear from you."_

"I'm just glad I finally have a chance to call you." A hairbrush. She needed a hairbrush.

 _"How's Kay doing?"_

"As good as she can be, right now. She's still not responding well to any of her medicine, so no clue how long it will be until she can come home. Hopefully by the weekend." Her fingers would have to suffice as a brush. Even after a brief organization, she could still never find anything in her sister's room.

 _"I'm sorry to hear that. I know this must be difficult. Again don't worry about work, okay? I meant it when I said take as much time as you need."_

"Thank you, Steven. But, hey…I know this is completely unrelated, but can I complain about something real quick?" She asked as she sat down on the bed.

 _"Of course."_

"So, I had to take Avery to parent teacher conference tonight, right?"

 _"Yes, I think I remember you mentioning that. What? Is she secretly a terrible student?"_

At that, Cynthia laughed. "No, not at all. Kay was right when she said it was 'brag about my kid night', actually."

 _"Then what's up?"_

"You'll never guess who I ran into…"

He paused for a second. _"Who could you possibly know out in Easton?"_

"Diantha." Saying it to him solidified it. She had seen Diantha. Thirteen years had passed, and there her ex was, looking almost exactly as she had the morning she left. Up until that moment, she didn't want to believe it had been real.

Another pause, this time, much longer. _"Diantha Ruston? Your ex?"_

"Diantha _Gardner_. Remember, she married Mel?" She tried not to sound too bitter about the correction, but she knew it wouldn't get past Steven.

 _"Oh, right. Wow…Where…Where did you run into her?"_

"She's one of Avery's teachers. She's apparently listed as Ann Gardner, and that went completely over Kay's head at the beginning of the year." Granted, maybe it would have gone over her head, too, but right now she just wanted to be angry.

 _"Oh…wow…I…that's…"_

She laughed again. "Yeah. This has got to be one of the most awkward nights of my life."

Steven laughed on his end. _"Worse than the night you spilled red wine on your white dress?"_

Falling back on her bed, she snorted at the memory. "It wasn't all white, but yes, okay. They're probably tied at this point."

If there was one thing Steven was good at, and there were definitely many, but if there was one thing, it was helping her take her mind off whatever was troubling her.

* * *

Tuesday morning rolled around all too fast for Avery. After a four-day weekend, her desire to go to school was at an all time low.

Reaching for her phone, she pulled it off its charger, squinting at the bright screen. A few too many notifications from Snapchat. Whatever drama she had missed from her old school friends would have to wait. For now, all she wanted to do was sleep again until the snooze ran out.

That also rolled around too fast.

Hitting the snooze button once more, she contemplated actually getting out of bed. Her blankets were warm. It also would put her one step closer to figuring out how she would face her aunt's ex girlfriend. Surly today would be the day she died of awkward.

Even though Cynthia was going to be talking with them about getting her moved from the class, she would still have to see her in the halls now and then. Not only that, but there would also be questions from everyone she knew of why she got moved. She now held all the answers about their teacher with crazy rumors. Yes, she had a film career. Yes, she was famous out in the Wisteria Region. No, her name wasn't really Ann.

But could she even tell people that? Would it jeopardize her career any? Would anyone even believe her?

Her alarm went off again, and by now she was awake. "Let's just get this over with," she grumbled to herself, reaching around the nightstand for her glasses.

She was about halfway through her bowl of cereal by the time Cynthia came out of her mom's room. She looked like she hadn't slept well, and her outfit was off from what she would normally wear. It wasn't often she wore a short-sleeved shirt. Even during the hottest months of the year, she always seemed to wear something that would cover most her arms.

"Morning aunt Cindy," she said, checking her phone for the time. Still quite awhile before they had to leave.

"Morning," she responded, making her way into the kitchen. "I've been thinking," she began as she worked on setting up the coffee maker. "I know I'm going to see about getting you moved from—" she wasn't sure how to address her. Mrs. Gardner? Diantha? Ann? "—her class, it's probably best you don't tell anyone you know her name or anything. I mean anyone, okay? She's obviously making a big deal out of hiding who she was if she's going by her middle name, and still using Mel's last name." She reasoned with herself that she wasn't trying to protect Diantha. She was trying to protect Avery.

Avery nodded. "Okay, but…what am I going to tell everyone? I knew a few people in that class, and I know they're going to ask me why I got moved."

She hummed in thought, leaning against the counter. "I would just tell them that you found out that your aunt and her knew each other from a long time ago, and you got moved to make sure there was no risk of grading bias."

"Okay," she again answered. It didn't solve her dilemma of then answering what she knew of the rumors, but she would burn that bridge once she got to it.

Her phone's text tone went off after a few minutes of silence. Opening the message, her face broke into a smile, which caught Cynthia's attention.

"You won't need to pick me up from band practice, today."

"Oh?" She said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

"My friend Maggie said she would give me a ride home today." She looked up to her aunt, who was now covering her mouth to hide a grin. "What?" She asked, feeling her face get warm.

Cynthia laughed to herself, joining her at the table. "Nothing, I won't bug you." Though, the smile she had seen from her niece made her want to pester her. "But who's Maggie? Can I trust her?"

She nodded. "Yeah! She's a junior, in the color guard! She was my first friend, here. She would usually give me rides home during band camp."

With a shrug, she sipped her coffee. It needed more cream, but she would tough it out. "Okay. Just let me know when you're leaving the school, okay?"

Nodding again, she grabbed her bowl, taking it to the sink. As she rinsed it out, she realized now might actually be a decent time to talk about something that had been on her mind. Cynthia had practically caught her, anyways. "Actually, aunt Cindy, can I…talk to you about something?" She asked, looking over at the stove clock. They still had some time before they had to leave.

"Sure."

"I, uh…I've kinda wanted to talk about this for awhile," she began, resuming her spot at the table. "Especially with you, but with everything that's been happening, I haven't really thought it was a good time and…"

Cynthia's expression turned to worry. Avery was doing her nervous habit of playing with the ends of her hair, and now wasn't making eye contact. "Don't worry about anything that's happening. Your mom, Diantha —whatever is bothering you is important, too."

"It's just…I feel kinda weird because I haven't told mom yet, but I'm…more okay with telling you."

That only increased her worry. "Tell me what?"

"I'm gay." Her heart was racing at that point. It didn't necessarily make sense to herself. Coming out to her gay aunt shouldn't be stressful, but there was always the background fear.

Cynthia's heart dropped. "You know I'm gay, but you know your mom is bisexual, right?"

She nodded, still refusing to look at her. "I know but…it's just…" did she dare tell her aunt? Her mom would be upset, that was for sure, but she didn't like lying to her aunt like this. "Oliver…"

With that, Cynthia had a slight understanding. An understanding that made her burn. "What about Oliver?" She asked.

She shifted around in her spot. "He would just get really weird if mom even said anything about a girl being pretty. Like, _really weird_."

She set her cup down, leaning forward. "Avery…Oliver never hurt either of you, did he?" She prayed she answered no, because if she answered any other way, so help that man.

"No!" He got lucky. "He would just get…I don't know. Weird. Like, he didn't like her saying things like that, and would start getting kinda mean, and eventually mom just dropped it all together. I've known I like girls for forever, but with how he was, I just…didn't feel okay saying it."

Heart dropped and shattered. "Avery, I am so sorry he made you feel that way." Oliver was lucky he lived in a region that was over a day's drive away. Otherwise, she might just have to show him a thing or two for making her own niece afraid to come out to her, a gay woman, and her own mother, another gay woman.

"It's just…that's not even all of it." She finally looked up at her. "There's a lot about Oliver mom doesn't want you to know about. She told me not to tell you because she didn't want you to worry, but…I don't like lying…" she admitted.

Now she was just sick to her stomach. Pushing it aside as best she could, she figured it would do them both some good to change the subject. "Well, how about I bug your mom for all that? I won't let her know you told me anything. I'll just say I put some things together. For now," she said, standing up from the chair. "Let's get heading to the school, and you can tell me more about Maggie if you want."

She laughed nervously. "I'm an open book, aren't I?"

Cynthia shrugged, smiling at her. "Let's just say, I don't smile like that when someone who is just a friend texts me…"

* * *

 _It was practically perfect. They were both practically perfect. So much so, Diantha found herself unable to contain her excitement. She looked to the two men with her, grabbing both their arms. "Siebold, Steven, again, thank you so much for coming with me!" Jewelry shopping was never her favorite, but thankfully having two men with her seemed to make the process a little better. Especially when one of them knew better than the salesman._

 _"Of course!" Steven said, looking down at her. "She's going to love it. Promise."_

 _"It's very much in her taste," Siebold added._

 _She hoped so, at least. Sure, it matched Cynthia's style, but would she love it? An obsidian ring with two, thin, gold interlays. Simple, yet elegant, enough for both their tastes._

 _Her phone rang from in her purse. Pulling it out, it was Cynthia calling her. She really had the worst timing. She stepped away from the counter to answer it. "Hello, my dear!"_

"Hey, where are you?"

 _"I had to grab something from the store." It wasn't a complete lie. "Do you need something?"_

"I'm stuck on campus, and Kay's stuck at her dentist appointment. Is there any way you could pick up Avery before you and Siebold come over?" _She sounded stressed._

 _"Of course!"_

 _"Ma'am, are you wanting to set up a payment plan?" The salesman asked, leaning over the glass counter._

 _She put the phone to her chest, doing her best to cover the microphone. "I plan on paying for them outright." Her response might have been a little uptight, but honestly, just who did he even take her for?_

 _There was a laugh from the two men, and Cynthia as she put the phone back up to her ear._ "So, what are you out buying?"

 _That she couldn't really avoid. "Oh, don't worry, I'll tell you later! I need to finish up here. I'll let you know when I've picked up Avery."_

"Alright. Thank you so much, Diantha."

 _"It's no problem, dear. I love you, and I'll see you soon!"_

 _She turned back once she was done to see both men smiling at her. Siebold maybe more so than Steven._

 _Ignoring them, she gave her attention to the salesman. Handing him her card, he gave her a look over before taking it, almost as if he was sizing her up. She might not be famous, but surly he knew better than to think she wouldn't pay for them that second._

 _She looked at her men once he turned away, rolling her eyes and earning a chuckle from them. "You both know your next job is to make sure she doesn't look into getting a ring, right?"_

 _"Of course," Steven answered. "Though, hopefully, I won't give away your plan in doing so."_

 _"I trust you'll be able to do that." She then looked to Siebold._

 _"I'll just tell her I'm busy." To which she laughed. A very Siebold answer._

 _Avery planted herself in front of Siebold once out of the car, looking up at the tall man expectantly._

 _He looked down at her, trying not to laugh. "Let me guess, you want me to carry you?"_

 _She nodded, giggling as he hoisted her up._

 _"You're going to be taller than your aunt at this rate," he told her, pretending to struggle with picking her up. Her giggles filled the air, a wonderful sound to Diantha._

 _She looked at them, grabbing the bag from the jewelry store from the backseat._

 _"Piggyback ride!"_

 _Siebold shook his head. "We're about to go inside. Do you want to bonk your head on the doorframe?" He asked, making her giggle all over again. "Didn't think so."_

 _Her attention turned to Diantha. She leaned around Siebold to see what she was doing. "Dannie, what's that?" She asked._

 _Hiding it under a change of clothes in her car's trunk, she shut the door, looking up at her. "A surprise!"_

 _"For me?" She asked, leaning further around Siebold._

 _"No, silly," she said, walking up to them. "For Cindy!" She gave a light tap to her nose, earning a few more giggles._

 _No sooner did Cynthia's car come into view. Handing Siebold her keys, she told him to wait inside with Avery._

 _He gave her a look. "You're not going to now, are you?" He asked, earning a laugh._

 _"No, no. I plan on taking her on a trip before I give her my surprise. Now, go on, you two!" She followed them to the stairs so she could wait for Cynthia, bouncing on her heel from excitement._

 _They were in the door by the time she was out of her car, and no sooner did she find herself with Diantha wrapped around her. She couldn't resist a laugh. "Missed you, too, Diantha."_

 _"It's so good to see you, my dear." She said, burying her face in her neck. She was wearing the perfume she liked. She still wasn't sure of it's name, but it always made her think of white lace._

 _"You're not normally this excited to see me," she pointed out._

 _She pulled away, still bouncing on her heel a bit. "I'm just happy to see you is all. Can't I be excited to see my girlfriend now and then?" She asked._

 _"What makes today so special?" She was up to something, but what that something was she couldn't figure out._

 _She shook her head. "Nothing, really. Just feeling it today, I guess," she said, pulling her in for a kiss. A little more rough than she intended. Her emotions were getting ahead of themselves, but hopefully that would all work itself out soon enough._

 _With a laugh, Cynthia was the first to pull away, a little frazzled from the kiss. "Does this have anything to do with what you were out buying earlier?" She guessed, putting her forehead to hers._

 _She shook her head. "No, no, nothing at all." It didn't sound convincing, but Cynthia found herself far too captivated with the soft look she was given. It had been awhile since she looked at her like that; the look with all the love in the world that was just for her._

 _"Now, come on! Avery was completely confused as to why it was me and Siebold picking her up from daycare," she said, now pulling her along with her._

 _Cynthia laughed. "I bet she was happy to see Siebold though."_

 _Diantha laughed. "He's pretty much the only man in her life, so yes. She was thrilled to have him carry her to the car…"_

* * *

 _Unfortunately, Cynthia never did find out what that surprise had been…_


	6. All For The Best

_Chapter Six_

 _All For The Best_

 _Cynthia took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Her anxiety had been at a high all day for something that she was likely just overthinking. Sitting at her kitchen table, tapping her fingers against the surface did little to ease it. "I just…I don't know, Steven," she said, adjusting the phone against her ear._

"What exactly has you bothered? Like, can you pinpoint a specific moment that started this?"

 _She nodded, as though he could actually see her. "Yeah, Diantha had to go to some casting thing the the other week, and Kathi Lee wouldn't let me go with her—"_

"I really can't stand that woman. She's just…vile," _he interrupted._

 _She groaned in response. "You're telling me. I hate her and her stupid, obnoxious voice, and—" she grumbled something unintelligible. "She's literally the worst. Like, I would have been fine with not going with her to the cast thing. I wouldn't have really known what was going on, anyways, and you know I trust her, but it was_ how _she told me I wasn't allowed to go with her. I also really can't stand how Diantha's mother refuses to let her get a new manager! Like! She's twenty-three! Let her make her own damn decisions. Really, I think they both hate me more than they care about her career." It was taking everything to not start ripping her own hair out at that point. Ever since they had started dating, Diantha's mother and Kathi Lee both made no secret of their mutual distaste for her._

 _"You anger is all understandable."_

 _"It's just…yeah, sorry I love Diantha. Sorry she loves me, too. I don't know why they —yes I do, I know why— but I don't know why they hate me so much!" She shifted around in the chair, getting uncomfortable. Her anger was making her hot._

 _Steven sighed. "It's not fair to you, and I'm sorry they've always treated you so poorly. Especially her mother. She's no prize as a person, but I know it must be hard having your girlfriend's mother not like you."_

 _She wanted to derail from the subject. They had that conversation more times than she really cared to count. "Yeah, it does but, anyways I'll get back on track. I think all this started when Diantha came back from that thing. She said Kathi Lee made her keep socializing with this guy, Mal Garden, or something like that." She was too disgusted with Diantha's description of him to care enough to remember his name._

"Mel Gardner, probably. He got famous pretty much overnight from some crap film noir," _he corrected. She could picture him rolling his eyes. They both hated film noir for no real specific reason. Even though it might have been something that would normally be up her alley, there was something about every movie in the genre that she had seen that rubbed her the wrong way._

 _She forced herself to stand, getting antsy from sitting too long. The chair screeched against the wood floor. "Yeah, that sounds right. Apparently, he wouldn't stop flirting with her, even when she told him no, and even after she said was dating someone. To make it better, Kathi Lee wouldn't let her walk away because some bull about needing to 'make connections' or whatever."_ God _she hated that woman._

 _He made a disapproving noise._ "I hate men like that…and that's just awful of Kathi Lee! She's her manager! She should be protecting her." _He sounded heated._

 _"It's just…Steven," her voice had noticeably gotten smaller. "We had such a great weekend not too long ago. She hasn't been that happy to see me in forever. I can't remember having that wonderful of a time together in years. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm totally happy, but that was just…different, I guess. Now it's just…something feels off. I don't know what but I feel it. I thought—" she felt a knot forming in her throat. She didn't want to cry. Not over something she wasn't sure was even a big deal._

 _With words refusing to meet her, Steven continued._ "Do you want me to come see you?" _He offered._

 _She wanted to tell him no. She didn't want to bother him, but right now, mind flooded with questions and doubts, there wasn't anyone else she could tolerate seeing. "Please…"_

 _The sounds of him already getting his keys came across the line._ "I'll be over shortly, Cynthia…"

* * *

 _A harsh screech reverberated off the walls as Diantha turned away, leaving a black skid mark under her heel. "Stop," she pleaded with her manager._

 _Kathi Lee pressed on, marching up to the other woman, using what little hight advantage she had to intimidate her. "This is my final warning to you, Diantha. If you marry her, you will only regret it."_

 _"I love her," she defended, feeling her hands trembling. "I will regret nothing." The argument was getting tired. Ever since she mentioned just the idea of getting married to Cynthia, Kathi Lee had been on her case every time they were around each other —and being her manager, it was often. Then, once she had bought the engagement rings, it got worse. She started showing up uninvited, accosting her for the decision._

 _How much longer until she started saying these things in front of Cynthia herself?_

 _She grabbed her shoulders, gripping with enough force to guarantee a bruise in the shape of her hands later. "Listen to me! She will hate you! When It Rains is going to take off, I guarantee it! And when it does, you will not have time for her! Press tours, interviews, new films, you name it, it will come between you two!_ She. Will. Loathe. You. _"_

 _Tears finally poured down her cheeks, bringing with them streams of her makeup. "No she won't! She loves me! We will make it work!" They loved each other. That should have been more than enough._

 _The fire in Kathi Lee's eyes made her sick to her stomach. She grabbed her face with one hand, roughly, forcing her to keep eye contact. "Listen to me, little girl. You need to be with someone who is at your level. Cynthia is so below you, it's not even funny. You need to be with someone who can stand on their own. I know girls like her. She can't stand on her own. She will either leech off you, ruining you, or your career will come between you. I_ won't _tell you again," she hissed. "Leave her on your own terms, or watch your marriage_ burn to the ground _."_

 _When she let go to storm off, Diantha found herself unable to stand. Her jewelry jingled as she fell to her knees, unable to hold back her sobs any longer. Everywhere she had been grabbed already began to throb._

She's wrong.

She's wrong.

She's wrong.

 _But no mater how much she tried to convince herself of it, already in the back of her mind was the thought that she was right…_

* * *

 _Dressed in all back, Diantha couldn't help but feel she was just putting forward the image of being in mourning. Maybe she was. Everything that had led her to Cynthia's door left her feeling like it was an appropriate enough emotion._

 _The air around her felt oppressively warm. Wisterian summers weren't supposed to be this warm, but maybe it was just her emotional state that aggravated it. She supposed it was a tad ironic. A day without a cloud in the sky was the stage for a tragedy._

 _It felt odd to use the doorbell. She had a key to the apartment, but she knew that if she used it, she wouldn't be able to follow through. It was all for the best, she continued to reason._

 _When Cynthia answered the door, looking throughly confused, it became almost too much._

 _"Did you forget your key?" Cynthia asked, stepping to the side, trying to ignore every indication that something was wrong. Diantha never wore all black. Never. She never forgot her key._

 _She shook her head, unable to look up at her. "No, I just…Cynthia we need to talk."_

 _The phrase nobody wanted to hear. The phrase that usually never had a happy ending._

 _"Okay…Do you want to come inside?" She hesitantly asked, feeling her mouth go dry._

 _Diantha shook her head. It was another thing that wouldn't allow her to follow through._

 _"Okay…" she stepped out, closing the door behind her. "Diantha, is everything okay? You're worrying me." And to think, Steven had only just calmed her down a few nights prior…_

 _Swallowing hard, she finally looked up at her. "I…we…" she prayed for an interruption. Anything to keep her from saying it. But that interruption never came. "Cynthia, we need to break up."_

 _The world almost stilled at that. The birds and usual summer insects fell into a hush, and the breeze died down. Nothing but the distant highway dared to break the tense silence._

 _"…What?" Her voice was just barely above a whisper._

 _The look on her face would surly hurt more than any physical wound ever could. Lost, confused, hurt. She felt her own heart breaking. "I'm sorry. It's for the best."_

 _"Wha-…why? Was it something I did? Something I didn't do?" She sputtered, searching Diantha's face for some sort of answer._

 _She forced herself to turn around, unable to face her again. "I'm sorry." One foot in front of the other, she forced herself to begin walking away. Her heart shattered more and more with each step._

 _"Wait! What did I do? Can I fix it— Diantha! Please!" She begged, following her, nearing tripping over herself._

 _She stopped in her tracks, looking up to help keep the tears from falling. "You did nothing wrong, Cynthia. It's just…It's better this way." Of all the excruciating exercises and practices she had gone through in her acting classes, none of them could have ever prepared her for_ this _._

 _"Diantha, please…I love you…can't we talk about this?" She didn't need to turn around to see that she was crying. Her tears were evident in her voice._

 _She would have given anything to just be able to turn around and wipe them away, and beg for forgiveness. To tell her that this was all because Kathi Lee's instance. That she still loved her and wanted to marry her, and have everything be alright. But the stubborn fear of a future together filled with loathing kept her from looking back._

 _"Goodbye, my dear Cynthia…" She pressed on, not allowing herself to be stopped again. It was over. She had done it…but why didn't it feel like she had spared herself any pain? Why did it feel like with every step she took from Cynthia that her whole world was going to crumble down around her?_

 _"Diantha!"_

 _She wouldn't look back._

 ** _"Diantha!"_**

 _Getting in the car, telling her driver to go, had never been more painful. She looked to her manager who sat at the other side. The smile she wore was more than enough to make her start crying all over again._

 _"You did the right thing," Kathi Lee told her._

 _"Then why doesn't it feel like it?" She asked. Her whole body was wracked with sobs. Nothing about this felt right._

 _"You'll see in time that this was the right choice…"_

* * *

 _Cynthia screamed in vain, watching her be taken off._

 _Her phone's ringtone went off in her pocket. Automatically, she pulled it out, seeing who was calling. Kay._

 _"Kay," she answered, unable to withhold a sob for even a second._

"Hey —whoa, hold up. You okay?" _He sister asked._

 _"No. Diantha- she-she's gone, she left…I need you, please," she said between sobs._

 _A frantic shuffle could be heard on her end. Just out of reach from the phones mic,_ "Baby, you're going to go over to Gram's for a bit, okay? Cynthia, Cynthia were are you?" _She asked, now at full volume._

 _"Home."_

"Stay where you are. I'm going to take Avery to Gram, you just stay where you are, I'll be there as quick as I can."

 _She forced herself to get walking back towards her apartment. "Okay."_

"Cynthia, please, whatever you do, don't hurt yourself. Wait for me to get there."

 _She mumbled some sort of response before hanging up. Once inside, the mute color scheme of her apartment really took its effect. It was dark and lonely, and_ god _did she just want to know what she had done wrong._

 _Slamming the door, she stopped in the hallway. Looking up, she turned to face the large framed map she had on the wall. Something about seeing her faint reflection broke her further. Falling against the wall, she slid to the floor, letting the tears fall._

 _She wasn't sure how long it took Kay to get there. All she could do was think over everything, searching for an answer as to what went wrong. What had she done to drive Diantha away like that? Why wouldn't she explain? Why was this for the best?_


	7. Last Resort

_Chapter Seven_

 _Last Resort_

 _Diantha put a hand to her face, sighing as the director cut the scene off once more. On a typical day, the goal for filming was to get at least two and a half minutes of the full movie done. Today, the director was hell-bent on getting a five minute scene done by the end of the day._

 _It was the scene where her character, Elise, was to confront her friend about her reluctance to follow her love to the north. They would then get into an argument, to which her convincing line would be when she broke down in tears, begging Tawny to not "be like her". To not run from everything once it got tough. That if she really loved him, she wouldn't let anything get in the way of it._

 _The lines at hurt at first. Receiving the full script only five months after walking out on Cynthia, they struck a nerve. At the very least, the tears came easily at first._

 _Now, forty-seven takes later, it was getting tiresome. Her skin was irritated from the constant reapplication of makeup, and she wasn't sure she had anymore tears left in her. Fake tears weren't an option. They were annoying to apply, and would break continuity._

 _Walking over to her chair, she waited for the makeup artists to make their rounds once more. Silently, she prayed the director would call it a night._

 _Two hours and a few too many more takes later, she finally released everyone._

 _Gathering her things, Diantha was among the first to leave. She wanted to go home. She wasn't interested in spending any time with her costars, or anyone on the staff. Home was her only objective. If she got out of the studio quick enough, she might even avoid the co-director._

 _"Where are you off to in such a hurry?"_

 _As fate would have it, she wouldn't._

 _Turning around, she was faced with Mel Gardner, the man who still couldn't take a hint. The man who relied too much on his 'classic good looks' to get what he wanted —like the co-director position. As expensive as bleaching his hair to that shade of blonde would be —which of course she knew was fake who was he trying to fool— it and his hazel eyes did nothing for her._

 _"Home, Mel. I'm tired." She didn't want to delve any further. He had already annoyed her enough by chasing her out to the parking lot._

 _He laughed, running a hand through his short hair. "I hear you, it was a long day. I won't keep you long, I just had a question for you."_

 _"What?" She mentally slapped herself for even giving him permission to ask._

 _"You're not needed on set tomorrow, and Lita already cleared me for a day off. I was wondering if you would like to have lunch or something together." He stepped towards her, making her step back._

 _She sighed. "I already told you." Three other times, to be precise. "I don't date co-workers."_

 _He leaned his weight on one foot, unperturbed. "I'm merely asking as a friend."_

 _They weren't friends._

 _"I won't consider it a date if you don't, Diantha."_

 _For a split second, if that, she had the urge to slap him. She was tired, emotionally drained, and still hurting over Cynthia. He knew all of this. It was the tired part he was playing at, though._

 _Once to a certain point of exhaustion, she would do anything to get out of the situation. Like agreeing. "Two conditions: You pick the place but it better be discreet. I do_ not _need any rumors starting. Two: you better not bore me." She regretted her choice of wording in an instant._

 _He leaned in, close enough to where she could smell his cologne. It was bright and bitter smelling. "Don't worry, Diantha. I will make it worth your while." The way he said it made her skin crawl._

 _Turning around, she was done. "Don't even think of picking me up before noon."_

 _"Of course. Goodnight, Diantha." The smirk in his voice kept her skin crawling._

 _The whole way home she chastised herself for the decision. At least Kathi Lee and her mother would be thrilled. The only thought that comforted her was that maybe the lunch would go so bad, everyone would finally see they weren't compatible, and would finally drop it._

 _Once home, she mechanically went through the process of getting ready for bed. With her makeup off and the day showered away, she drug herself to her room, shrugging on a dark grey sweatshirt. One she should have gotten rid of months ago, but couldn't. Not when it was the few things of Cynthia's not lost during her move to southern Wisteria._

 _If it had flattered her figure more, she might have considered wearing it to her lunch date with Mel._

 _As she lay in her bed, that without another person felt large enough to swallow her, she struggled to get sleep. She thought it would have come easily considering it had been two days since she was last able to sleep in. Instead, memories of Cynthia haunted her as they always did._

 _With a sigh, she rolled over to her side, staring at the wall. "I wish you were here." Then she might have an excuse to tell Mel no, but even then, that was a convenient excuse._

 _In actuality, she wished with all her being that she had never abandoned Cynthia._

* * *

 _Unfortunately, despite everything she had against him as a person, it wasn't the worst lunch date she had ever been on…_

* * *

 _Diantha looked at her mother as they sat next to one another in the grand room, feeling a twinge of desperation rise up within her. She wanted to confide in her. To wrap her arms around her so she could cry and feel comforted as she had when she was a child. To feel the warmth of a mother's embrace, and to feel like she would be protected._

 _Past experience, however, had taught her that it was a bad idea._

 _Anytime she would dare confide in her, it would always come back to burn her later. It would always result in some form of emotional manipulation. Always._

 _It didn't stop the feeling from leaving her choked up._

 _"Dear Diantha," she said, placing a hand on her cheek. "You always look miserable these days. Your pretty face is going to wrinkle early if you keep it up."_

 _She shrugged, turning away from her. "I won't be young forever, so I don't see why it matters. If I'm going to be an actress for the rest of my life, then I should be ready to take on any role. No matter how young or old I look." She hoped it was a safe enough answer. At the very least, it didn't mention the masters degree she was working on. The one her mother was wholly against._

 _When she started to laugh, Diantha realized it wasn't the right answer. Then again, no answer ever was the right answer._

 _"Darling, striving to not look your age is what every woman should do. You certainly wont keep Mel around if you look forty before you've even turned twenty-five."_

 _She hummed in thought. "If that's what it takes to finally get him away from me, then so be it, I suppose." It earned her a hard slap on the hand._

 _"Diantha Ann Ruston, you have a very good thing going for you, and I will not let you throw it away like that! Mel is handsome, charming, and very well off. The two of you make an excellent pair. Unlike anyone else you've ever dated, he won't clip your wings." Considering she had only dated one other person besides Cynthia, and that had been in high school, it was definitely a slight against Cynthia._

 _She only sighed in response, turning away from her on the couch. She didn't want to dig her grave any further._

 _"Darling, look, I know it can be tough in the beginning. Love isn't easy. It took me awhile to come around to your father, and look at us now!" It took everything in her to not respond with something snarky that would get her more than just a slap on the hand._

 _"Give him a few more chances, Diantha. Just, stop keeping ahold of whatever it is you're holding onto, and see that he's a good man. This is a good thing. You two are perfect for each other. You'll see." She patted her knee before standing, leaving Diantha all by herself._

 _Once again, the feeling threatened to grab hold of her. Before she could force it down, she felt the sting of tears in her eyes._

 _Despite everything, she still just wanted to be comforted by her mother._

 _Instead, her parent's poodle strode in the room, his black fur sporting a fresh, gaudy haircut that brought a small smile to her face._

 _"Hello, Bella," she greeted, allowing herself to get lost in the motion of petting her._

 _Bella rubbed against her legs, seeking out every possible scratch, leg twitching when her back was scratched._

 _Diantha laughed, telling her to sit at her feet._

 _After some silence between them, and a few more pets, an idea came to mind._

 _"Maybe Mel is the easy way out," she mused, ruffling Bella's ears. "Can't be all that difficult, right? I'm…getting used to him. Dates with him aren't_ all _that miserable, if I'm honest. I could learn to love him. Mother and Kathi Lee will be off my back, and father would approve of us getting married. Settle down. He'll likely want kids…"_

 _Bella grumbled in response, putting her head in Diantha's lap._

 _The more she thought about it, the more she had to convince herself it was the easy thing to do…_

* * *

 _Months later, Diantha found herself walking down a red carpet for the premiere of Unto The North. The whole day had been a daze. Going with the motions, she could recall little of what had happened. She remembered waking up, having her makeup and hair done, and being forced into a burgundy dress at some point. How she ended up with her arm linked through Mel's she wasn't even sure._

 _The sooner this all was over with the better._

 _Through the whole showing, she couldn't get comfortable. Mel sat too close, leaned in too much to make too many asides to her. Though, by this point, she had just accepted it as part of him. He was always going to invade her space, and so she followed her mother's advice to just get used to it. In ways it made him more tolerable. At least, it was what she was convincing herself of._

 _Seeing herself on the screen would momentarily ground her. It wasn't something she was ever fond of. Watching herself only lead to critiquing everything. Many of her scenes she wasn't sure why they were picked. There were many other takes she felt like she had given a better delivery._

 _Maybe she'd ask Mel what he knew of the politics behind picking takes…_

* * *

 _Standing on the balcony, Diantha leaned against the railing, letting the cool night air rush over her. Footsteps soon followed, but she didn't care to look to see who it was. The way they moved was familiar to her at that point._

 _"Mel," she greeted, keeping her eyes on the city ahead of her._

 _"Diantha," he said cooly, standing next to her._

 _They stood without saying a word to each other, listening in to the winding down party. After awhile, he grew impatient, placing a hand atop hers casually._

 _"Can't say I enjoy their taste in wine."_

 _Innocuous enough conversation, but she could see exactly where it was headed. And she let him._

 _Easy way out, she reminded herself._

 _"It's all cheap and not sweet enough for me," she responded, not looking at him._

 _He laughed. "I always figured you were a woman with expensive tastes."_

 _"You have no idea." He really didn't._

 _Bringing their hands down to lace their fingers together, he gave her a sly smile. "What do you say to ditching this? I've got a bottle of wine in my room I think you might like."_

 _Despite herself, she said yes, asking him to lead the way. Word had already gotten out that they had seen each other off set multiple times. She was beyond the point of caring what rumors started as glances were thrown their was as they left the party together._

 _Once up in his room, she allowed herself to walk around a bit. It was a suite that left nothing to be desired. The large bay window caught her attention the most. It's view was breathtaking, giving her a full scope of the city that was now below them._

 _She watched him approach from the reflection in the glass. She turned on him, not about to let him make the first move. Everything was going to be on her terms. She might have had little control elsewhere in her life, but she was going to have full control over this no matter what._

 _Grabbing a fist full of his tux, she brought him close, catching him by surprise. It almost amused her. "Mel," she began, keeping her voice low. "Make this easy for me."_

 _He chuckled, putting his hands on her waist. "Wine might help that," he joked._

 _"I don't want your wine. I want you to make me forget about everything that isn't you." As anticipated, he took it as pure innuendo._

 _For at least one night in well over a year, she did forget._

 _The next morning, however, was a different story. Waking up in a haze, but with a little more rationality, the reality of what happened between her and the man sleeping soundly next to her weighed down on her._

 _Forcing herself to get out of bed, looked around the floor, trying to find her purse. She wasn't about to wear the same dress out, and Mel's oversized dress shirt that she was wearing also wasn't an option. Kathi Lee would have to come to her rescue._

 _Once she found her purse, phone still inside, she made her way to the bathroom. The white marble below her feet was cold, and the room seemed devoid of warmth._

 _Pulling up Kathi Lee's contact, she waited for the inevitable snark._

"Well, I was wondering if I would have to track your phone to figure out where you were at."

 _An uncomfortable reminder at best._

 _"I'm still at the hotel that hosted the after party. I…stayed with Mel."_

 _She heard her laugh on the other end._

"Are you wanting to stay longer, or are you asking me to send someone to get you?"

 _"Have someone get me, and bring me new clothes. Walking out like this in my dress from last night will stir up more rumors." She looked herself over in the mirror. A few small marks by her collar, but thankfully nothing she couldn't hide._

 _"How about I go by the pharmacy and then come get you myself."_

 _There couldn't have been much else she was insinuating other than emergency contraceptive. Likely a good idea._

 _"Call me when you're here," she said before hanging up._

 _When she walked back into the room, Mel rolled over on the bed, giving her a sleepy grin. "Leaving me so soon?"_

 _She hummed, walking back over to him. "Not quite. It will be awhile before Kathi Lee gets here. You still have to put up with me for awhile longer, I'm afraid." She sat down, putting one leg up on the bed._

 _He hummed in response, burying his face in his pillow. Looking back at her, he was surprised by her soft expression. Normally there was a certain distance and something cold about her —to him, a challenge. A challenge he was sure he had finally won._

 _When she placed a hand on his cheek, he couldn't resist a laugh. "Told you you just needed to get laid. Now look how soft you're getting."_

 _She instantly retracted her hand, going right back to the cold look he was more used to. "Don't push your luck, Mel," she warned._

 _He gave her his classic grin, forcing her to let her guard down once more. There wasn't going back on anything they had done at that point. If there weren't already articles about them printing, there surly would be some soon._

 _It was officially time to get herself to move on from Cynthia._

* * *

 _"Alright, Miss Carolina, can I get you anything?" Oliver asked, walking Cynthia's grandmother to her chair._

 _She shook her head, taking her spot. "I'm good."_

 _He stood tall, looking between her and Cynthia, who had already taken her spot on the couch. "I'm going to go pick up Avery from kindergarten, then I'm gonna get Kay from work. Either of you need anything?"_

 _Cynthia wouldn't look at him as she told him no._

 _Carolina looked at him, giving him a sweet smile. "We're good. We'll let you know if we need anything."_

 _With a nod, he headed out._

 _Carolina looked over at her granddaughter. "You're still not fond of him, are you, Cynthia?" Eighty-seven with failing health, but still sharp as a tack. Nothing could get past her._

 _She kept her gaze forward. "Never have been. Never will be."_

 _She leaned back in her chair, taking a deep breath. "Promise me something, Cynthia. Promise me you won't let him come between you and Kay."_

 _Unfortunately, it already had. She couldn't remember the last time the two of them had been alone together without getting in some sort of argument. Now that they basically lived together again back with their grandmother so they could help take care of her, it was becoming quite the regular occurrence._

 _A sad thing, really. She couldn't find a definitive reason to dislike Oliver. He was good to Kay, and great with Avery. Yet, there was just something about him that bothered her._

 _With Cynthia refusing to say anything, Carolina dropped the subject. Turning on the tv, the commercial immediately gave way to some midday talkshow. The sight of the main guest made Cynthia's stomach churn._

 _Diantha._

 _"Please change the channel," she begged._

 _Carolina kept the remote in her hand, but wouldn't change the channel just yet. "Cynthia, you need to talk about what happened and how it affected you. Bottling it up is only going to make things worse in the end."_

 _"It's been over two years, Grandma. I'm over it. I just don't like talkshows."_

 _She hummed in response. "You know, your grandfather has been gone for well over fifteen years, now. I still miss him every day. It's okay to not be over it."_

 _Cynthia's shoulders tensed. "You were married to him for forty-six years, grandma. That's different from a five year relationship."_

 _"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean you can't be in pain. It's not a competition."_

 _For a few more seconds, she lingered on the channel. The volume wasn't up to where they could really hear anything they were saying, but Cynthia could easily see that Diantha was uncomfortable. She was putting on a good front, but the way she held herself screamed otherwise to Cynthia. Plus, she held her hands a certain way when she was upset._

 _With a sigh, she asked her grandmother once more to change the channel. She didn't like realizing that Diantha's body language was still clear as day to her._

* * *

 _Avery wandered into the living room, looking at her aunt. She had yet to move from the couch all morning. It was almost as though she was becoming a permanent fixture to the couch. "Are you just sad?" She asked, point blank._

 _With a sigh, Cynthia figured there was no use lying to a five year old. "Yeah, I am."_

 _She crawled up on the couch next to her, putting her head on her shoulder. "Are you sad because of gramma?" She asked._

 _"Yes." Among other things. Though, her grandmothers recent trip to the doctors was weighing heaviest on her mind. Things had been going downhill for the last year, but now it was starting to really gain traction. It wasn't looking good._

 _Avery took her head off Cynthia's shoulder, wrapping her arms around her, laughing a little when she pulled her into a hug. "It's okay Aunt Cindy. I get sad about it, too sometimes."_

 _It hurt Cynthia to hear, but it was the reality of the situation. She hoped for Avery that she wouldn't be able to remember any of it one day. That was the luxury of being a child._

 _"How about we go play outside," she said, getting both of them to stand. Her body hurt from sitting in one spot too long._

 _Avery perked up. "Okay! I'm gonna get my shoes!"_

 _Stretching out her arms, a few too many joints popped. Getting outside would probably be good for her._

 _Just in time for Avery to run back into the room, Cynthia's phone began to ring. Looking at the screen, it was Steven calling. "Avery, I'm going to talk to Steven real quick. I'll be outside after I'm done."_

 _"Okay!" Her shoes were barely tied as she rushed out the door._

 _"Hey," Cynthia answered on the last ring._

"Hey, so, what airport would be better to fly into? Calgary and Rennon International are both pretty much the same distance from your grandmother's, right?"

 _She had to think for a second to see if she understood his question. "Wait, hold on, I said I just wanted you to call me, not—"_

"If it's going to be an inconvenience then I won't, but I want to come out to be with you right now."

 _"I don't want to inconvenience you! I know you got the job about a year ago, but I mean, it's still basically new. You don't need to fly back out here. It'll be fine."_

"I already talked with my boss. He said it's fine. Now, which airport is better? I can't remember."

 _She forced a laugh, knowing he wasn't going to change his mind now that it was made. "Well, if you want me to come get you, I'd rather pick you up at Rennon."_

"Alright. Should I arrange for a hotel? Or, I guess I could go to my father's and borrow a car from him."

 _"You can stay with me. I need to check on things at my apartment, and getting out of here would probably do me some good, anyways…"_

* * *

 _Standing with Steven in her living room felt odd. She hadn't been to the apartment in over a month, and prior to that, only a few times._

 _The weirder thing, she realized, was now standing face to face with Steven. It had been over a year since he took his new job, and they hadn't seen each other since. Sure, they called each other regularly, but being together was a whole different thing._

 _Already, she found herself in better spirits. All the stories of weird people Steven had met over his year of working at the science museum left her laughing the whole ride to her apartment._

 _It was all a reprieve she didn't realize she needed until she actually had it._

 _He went to say something, going quiet when she put her arms around his neck in a hug. They had a quick reunion at the airport, but she didn't want to cause a scene there. Now, she could hold onto him as tightly as she wanted._

 _"I missed you," she told him, feeling his arms around her waist._

 _He laughed, leaning his head against hers. "Missed you, too, Cynthia."_

 _When she pulled away, he smiled at her, reaching up to push her bangs out of her face. "Just making sure you still have your other eye," he joked, watching her roll her eyes at him._

 _She brushed her hair messily over her head, pushing him slightly. "Like I haven't heard that at least twelve times a day for the last million years."_

 _"Tell me," now he was just amused. "Does that affect your vision in any way? Or do you do it on purpose, like a pirate! Cover one eye so it will be adjusted for—"_

 _She shoved him again, harder, but still kept him within her grasp. "Did you really fly over four hours just to tease me? How much of that did you think of while on the plane?"_

 _Something about the way she was looking at him, combined with the messy look of her hair caught him off guard, making his mouth go dry. His hands trailed to her hips. "The only thing I thought about was how much I couldn't wait to see you."_

 _She felt her cheeks burn a bit._

 _Both realized they were treading into a territory neither had thought to before._

 _Carefully, she balled her hands grabbing his shirt._

 _Before either of them could make the next move, her phone rang in her pocket. She pulled it out hastily, grumbling about how whoever it was better be important._

 _Still in his grasp, he overheard every word of the conversation. It was Kay. Their grandmother had passed…_

* * *

 _Siebold leaned back from the flames, smiling to himself as the dish all came together. Once the fire had calmed, he turned to begin the plating process._

 _"Son! You're needed in the dining room!"_

 _He looked over at his father. "Can't it wait? I'm busy," he said, returning his attention to the dish._

 _"Just finish that, okay? We're close to closing anyways, so you can leave the rest to Raoul. Besides," his tone turned playful, "he's a pretty handsome young man."_

 _Siebold's cheeks pinked at that. "Father," he grumbled._

 _"I'm gonna keep embarrassing you until you get out there."_

 _With another grumble, he turned things over to the sous chef, washing his hands before heading out to the dining room._

 _In the waiting area, stood Steven Stone. He figured his father only withheld telling him who it really was because he wouldn't have gone out otherwise._

 _"Well," Siebold began, rolling the cuff of his shirt as he approached the shorter man, "when my father said there was a handsome man here to see me, I suppose he wasn't wrong. To what do I owe this visit after two years of not speaking to me, Mr. Stone." For a split second, he worried it sounded too bitter, but then he remembered that he didn't care._

 _Ignoring the handsome bit, Steven figured it was best to get straight to the point. "I'm terribly sorry to turn up like this, and I wish I could say that I'm here to be social."_

 _Looking him over, he figured whatever he had to say would best be kept private. With a wave of his hand, he brought him to a section of the restaurant that had been closed down for the night. "What do you need?" He asked, leaning against a table._

 _"I hate to use you like this, but I need your help. I need to get ahold of Diantha."_

 _With a quick roll of his eyes, Siebold pushed himself off the table. "Well, good luck with that—"_

 _"Siebold, please!" Steven reached for his arm, keeping him in place. "This isn't for me. This is for Cynthia. I'm at a loss of what to do for her, and this is my last resort."_

 _The desperation in his voice brought Siebold to a stop. He could have easily torn from his grasp, but chose not to._

 _"Carolina passed away a few days ago, and both Kay and Cynthia are a mess over it, but it's Cynthia who has me most worried. I haven't seen her like this since her mother passed away when we were children. Please, Siebold. I'm genuinely worried she might try to hurt herself." He let his hand fall from his arm, giving him the chance to walk away._

 _He was quiet for a few seconds. "Steven, do you honestly think seeing her ex girlfriend, who is seeing someone, would help?"_

 _He shrugged, looking away. "Like I said, this is my last resort. I don't know what to do, but maybe if anyone can get through to her I'm hoping it will be Diantha. They knew each other better than probably you or I knew them."_

 _Siebold couldn't argue with that._

 _Rubbing his neck with a hand, he let out a sigh. "I…Steven, look, I want to help but…I can't give you Diantha's number, because it would get her in trouble with her manager, and I can't guarantee that she will even speak with me. Ever since she started officially seeing Mel, she hardly talks to me."_

 _That hurt Steven to hear. They had been childhood friends, just as he had been with Cynthia. He didn't want to think about the pain he would feel if Cynthia dropped contact with him. "Really?" He asked, trying to keep his tone sympathetic._

 _He nodded, now the one to avoid eye contact. "Mel doesn't like how close we were, and I never made it a secret that I didn't like him."_

 _Steven wanted to laugh. Siebold never made a secret of anything, really. "Any insight on what she sees in him, anyways?"_

 _"Do you want my honest opinion?"_

 _The way he asked intrigued Steven. "Yes?"_

 _He looked around before leaning in just a bit. "I think it's the ultimate test of her acting abilities. Did Cynthia ever tell you of the time she ended up acting herself into an actual panic attack?"_

 _He nodded._

 _"I think she's trying to act herself into loving him." He leaned away, almost laughing to himself. "If I were to tell you right now that I loved you, there would probably be more warmth behind my words than when she says she loves him."_

 _Ironing out a few more details, Siebold promised to pass along Steven's number to her, and do what he could. Before Steven could leave, Siebold stopped him._

 _"For what it's worth, Steven…I wasn't your friend just because you were Cynthia's friend. I did enjoy your company, and I have…missed you." He felt his face grow warm. He wasn't used to being sentimental in any way._

 _At that, Steven felt guilty. He had never intended on hurting Siebold. "I live out in Cordova now, but I promise I'll keep in touch from now on. I missed you, too…"_

* * *

 _Cynthia walked into her apartment, intending on only grabbing a few things before heading back to her grandmother's house. Her feet dragged below her, and every step had hurt for the past few days. Every day she prayed she would wake up from her nightmare._

 _In her living room, she saw that her tv had been left on. She couldn't even remember watching it in the first place. Maybe Steven had left it on. Maybe every day was just blending together._

 _Before she could turn it off, the next news segment caught her eyes. She felt the remote fall from her hands as the news anchor eagerly talked about the engagement between Diantha Ruston and Mel Gardner._

 _Like a switch, something in her flipped._

 _Picking up the remote, she flung it at the tv, missing and leaving a large dent in the wall. "You bitch!" Was about all she could yell, throwing anything and everything she could, eventually toppling the tv over._

 _"It was supposed to be me!"_

 _Ornaments and decorations of all kinds throughout her apartment: shattered._

 _Her kitchen was overturned._

 _No amount of breaking things could settle the storm that was unleashed inside her._

 _"I was so much better than him! I respected you! When you said no, I backed off! I— He doesn't know you like I did! He doesn't care about you like I did and he never will!" She felt herself starting to get too choked up at that point. Tears feely flowed._

 _Grabbing the ceramic carnation —a gift from diantha— off the counter, she flung it against the wall, watching it shatter into a million pieces. "Bet you were fucking cheating on me, weren't you! Wi-with that -that asshole! That's why you left!"_

 _Shaking, she stopped herself in the front hallway. Looking over the large, glass-famed map, she felt as though she was leaving her own body as she slammed herself against it in a last ditch effort to feel something other than emotional pain. In an effort to put a physical wound to her emotional one._

 _The next thing she knew, Kay was standing over her, phone in hand, frantically talking to someone. Steven had her head propped in his lap, begging her to stay with him._

 _For a few seconds, she found herself worrying about him. His hands were covered in blood, but then, as the searing pain started to seep in, she realized it wasn't his. It was hers, and there was a lot of it._


	8. What Could Have Been

Chapter Eight

What Could Have Been

Cynthia stood outside the band room's exit, taking in the warm afternoon air. Long ago, when she had first moved out to Cordova, she would have considered it still far too warm. Now, after years of acclimatizing, it was at a temperature she now considered more comfortable. While it was still almost a month away from the first day of fall, the cooling had already begun.

Looking back towards the building, Cynthia waited for the band parent she had been helping, whose name she had already forgotten, to get further instruction. The school was still a giant maze to her, but staying away from it all wouldn't help her figure things out.

"Alright!" The redheaded woman said as she came from the double doors. "If you'll help me get these last few cases of water out of my car, then we should be good!"

* * *

Stepping outside of the school, Diantha felt the tension fall from her shoulders, enjoying the weather. The cooling temperatures meant fall break wasn't too far off, and it was something she was now desperately looking forward to.

Making her way to the staff parking lot, she stopped at the school's corner, happening to glance down towards the band hall. A mess of blonde hair instantly caught her attention. This time she was sure it was Cynthia.

She looked to be talking with someone, and for a moment, she contemplated approaching her. She wanted to ask her to get coffee sometime while she was in the area. After all, thirteen years left a lot to be talked about. However, it was the look in Cynthia's eyes that kept her hesitant to do so. The cold, steely gaze that, years ago, she reserved for select few people. To now be among that group, and while not unwarranted, hurt.

Shifting the notebook in her hands around, when the person Cynthia had been talking to walked away, she made her choice. "Now or never," she reasoned.

Cynthia had been brought back into her life for one reason or another, and she didn't want to risk it being for only a few fleeting seconds.

Changing direction, she headed for Cynthia, mentally rehearsing whatever she was going to say.

Hearing footsteps approach, Cynthia turned to face whoever, assuming it was the band parent again. The person instead stole her breath for a brief second. A burning feeling soon replaced it. Whether it was the warm air or Diantha who stood in front of her that brought on the feeling, she wouldn't try too hard to figure out which.

"Cynthia," Diantha greeted, trying to keep a neutral distance between them. Despite it, she noted that Cynthia still took the smallest of steps back. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon…" Already she was finding herself going off script.

She nodded, taking in the woman before her. The muted colors of her clothing still didn't seem right. "To be honest, I kind of thought I would never see you again, in general." She had to control herself to not let too much emotion into her voice.

"Yes, well, I understand that, completely…" she said, grimacing. "But I…" she was giving her that steely gaze again, making everything that much harder to say. "I had the thought the other night, but with the whirlwind of seeing you after so long, and realizing I technically know one of my students, I didn't ask. I also didn't want another teacher overhearing. I couldn't have them thinking that you were her mother, and that it might get taken as fraternizing with a student's parent, and—"

Cynthia found herself almost ready to laugh, but not quite. She wouldn't let her guard down around her that easily. Even if it was amusing to know that after thirteen years, she couldn't kick the habit of rambling when she was nervous. "Diantha," she said, figuring it would get her back on track.

"Yes, sorry!" She said, feeling her face get warm with embarrassment. "I…I wanted to know if you would, maybe, like to get coffee sometime?" Her gaze had let up, but she still found herself struggling. "To catch up. I must admit, it's very surreal seeing you after all this time." She shifted her weight to one foot. Surreal didn't begin to cover how she felt about it all.

Cynthia's immediate answer was No. Her secondary answer was Hell No. Her third, and aloud answer that she was sure she would chastise herself about later was a tentative, "Sure." She would have been lying if she had said she hadn't spent the better part of the last few days thinking about her. Curious as to what ever happened to her once she stopped making movies. Curious as to why there as no longer a ring on her finger. Curious if she would finally get an answer to what went wrong.

Her heart jumped. Diantha was sure she was going to reject her. "Oh, wonderful! I'm so glad! I don't know how long you'll be around, but I'm usually free most weekends." Well, if grading and planning work counted as free, anyways.

Mulling it over, she figured she could handle seeing her on Saturday. At least then it would give her awhile to mentally prepare for everything. "Avery has marching band practice on Saturday, so as long as I can get her by three, I'm good then." Even if Avery was likely going to get a ride home from her friend, she was going to at least plan on picking her up. At the very least, there would be a definitive end time to seeing her.

It was sooner than Diantha had expected her to suggest. "Okay, well, here," she opened up the notebook, flipping to a blank page. Ripping the pen off the spiral, she quickly wrote out her number, and the name of the cafe she had in mind. "There's a cafe on West Main Street, it's called Crema."

For just a brief second, Cynthia smiled at the way her accent overtook the word.

"They've got wonderful coffee and pastries."

At that, Cynthia did allow herself to actually smile. "I think I see the real reason you picked that cafe," she joked.

She laughed in turn, bringing a hand to her cheek. "Thirteen years, and I'm still the number one sucker for something sweet." She ripped the paper out, handing it to Cynthia. "But, here's my number just in case you need it for anything. I'm not sure how well you know your way around here."

She looked at the paper as she took it, then back to Diantha. Her smile remained, and was as genuine as the situation allowed. "What time do you want to meet?"

"Around noon, maybe?" She offered.

"Sounds good to me."

With a giddy smile that briefly took Cynthia back to when they were twenty, she nodded. "Wonderful! I will see you then."

"See you," Cynthia casually added.

Turning around to leave, Diantha stopped halfway. "Oh, and I sincerely hope Kay gets well soon."

Once Diantha was off, Cynthia leaned back against her car, looking over the note in her hands. Her handwriting had gotten neater over the years, and she felt odd to have been able to recognize it.

Looking up to the afternoon sky that was giving away to a burning orange, she shook her head, already beginning the process of chastising herself for the decision. "What have I gotten myself into?"

"So, you know Miss Ann?"

Cynthia felt herself jump at the voice of the band mom. Marsha. _Or was it Martha?_

Looking over, she stood not too far off, but was looking over at Diantha.

"Oh, uh, yeah. We…knew each other a long time ago," she answered, folding the note over.

"Right, right. Avery's from Wisteria, and so you would be too," she said, coming to stand in front of Cynthia. "What can you tell me about her? The band directors always speak highly of her. I've also heard rumors from some of the senior band parents that whenever the band does fundraisers, she's always the top donor," she said, leaning in as if there was anyone around to hear.

That didn't surprise Cynthia, but she still didn't feel comfortable giving away any of who Diantha used to be. She didn't feel comfortable _remembering_ who she used to be. "I want to say that sounds likely, but…to be honest with you, this is the first time I've really talked to her in over ten years, so I don't think I have much to tell you…"

* * *

Glancing up from her phone, the note that sat on the car's console caught Avery's attention. Particularly the way the fives were written. Their shape was very familiar to her. In fact, they looked exactly like… "Oh my god, aunt Cindy, are you going on a date with Mrs. Gardner?" She asked, her pitch increasing as she spoke.

Cynthia's face was red in an instant, much to her dismay. "What makes you think that's even her number?"

She didn't miss a beat. "She writes her fives really funny, and those are so her fives."

How she thought she'd even get that past her, she wasn't sure. "No, it is absolutely not a date. I ran into her while helping out one of the band moms, and she asked if I wanted to get coffee with her so we could catch up. Since it's been thirteen years, I figured, why not?"

She wouldn't take her eyes from her. "That sounds like a date."

"You need to change your idea of what a date is," she responded, digging her nails into the car's steering wheel.

Avery didn't seem convinced.

"It's not a date. After what she did, there is no way in hell I would ever date her again."

Now she was just curious. Against her better judgement, she pressed on. "What did she do?" Maybe she could get her side of it, rather than her mother's emotional take on it.

Cynthia sighed. Nothing about this conversation was pleasant. "To make a long story short: we met when we were fifteen, dated at eighteen, and after dating for five years, she walked out on me for some man she's not even with anymore." The silence that followed sat heavy between them.

Avery worried that she had overstepped, and asked too much. She wasn't used to seeing her aunt angry. At least, not in recent memory. When she was five, it seemed to be all she was.

"Sorry," Cynthia amended, realizing how everything was coming across. "It's a sore subject for me. That's just what I've been telling myself. I could be wrong. I guess I might find out on Saturday." If she played her cards right, anyways.

She said nothing in response, returning her attention back to her phone. Mindlessly messing with a few apps, she found herself hoping that her aunt would be proved wrong. Why, she wasn't sure.

* * *

Diantha stared into her closet, looking over her array of clothing. Down to a white camisole and underwear, she had gone over a few different outfits, deciding against every one of them. "I am overthinking this…" she grumbled to herself.

Reaching to her dresser, she grabbed her phone, looking at what the weather was going to be doing. For the fifth time.

Low eighties for the day and party cloudy. The only thing that had changed since she last looked was the humidity level.

But no matter what she would pick out, she kept putting it back, and grumbling to herself that she was still overthinking things.

Settling for her pink shirt with the white elephant logo, she then searched for a pair of jeans and left it at that.

"This is just coffee. Nothing else," she said to herself, stopping in front of her full body mirror. Giving herself a look over, she stopped midway through her turn with a heavy sigh. "You should just be thankful that she's even willing to speak to you." Why she had even said yes was beyond her.

Then she realized she had yet to decide what she was going to do with her hair. She reasoned she would try to keep that simple as well. Pulling most of it to the side would be simplest, but then she found herself worrying if it would be too plain…

* * *

The cafe around Diantha buzzed with the life of the lunch crowd. Her anxiety towards seeing Cynthia had led her to the cafe much earlier than they agreed to.

She watched the people around her now and then, occasionally looking towards the entrance to see if Cynthia would get there early as well. Though, she figured that if Cynthia was anything like she used to be, she would step foot into the building at precisely noon.

And just as she had expected, right at noon, Cynthia walked in. Her clothing felt a little more familiar to her this round. Blue blouse and black slacks; even thirteen years later she was still a sight to behold.

With a quick wave, she caught her attention.

She slid into the seat across from her, keeping herself pressed as far back in the chair as possible.

"It's good to see you," Diantha greeted, folding her hands across her lap.

Cynthia nodded, but before she could say anything, their waiter stopped by the table. "Oh, your friend finally arrived!" He said, looking between the two. "Do you want a minute to look over the menu?" he asked, looking at Cynthia.

She shook her head, sending a few locks of hair over her shoulder. "I'm not picky about coffee, so I'm ready if you are," she said, looking to Diantha. All she needed was a quick glance to decide.

With a smile, she gave the waiter her attention. "I'll take the white mocha, please."

He nodded, the looked to Cynthia. "Cafe latte." She internally noted that Diantha hadn't picked a pastry of any kind. Something she, in the past, only did when she was far too anxious to eat.

He smiled at them. "Sounds good! Be out with those shortly." He stopped, looking to Cynthia. "Oh, and my name's Clay if you need anything else!"

Once he was gone, Diantha returned her attention to the woman in front of her. For a second, she found herself at a loss for words. Where was even an appropriate place to begin after all this time?

"I'm curious, Cynthia, you know I'm now a high school literature teacher." A far cry from everything she used to be. "What about you? How did you end up here in Cordova as well?"

Cynthia adjusted herself in her seat. "You remember Steven Stone, right?"

She nodded. "Of course!" How could she forget?

She fought the temptation to look at her hand to see if she was alluding to a ring. Even though she remembered that Cynthia had a strong preference for women, given how close the two had been, it wouldn't have surprised her in the least if they were now married.

"He's pretty much the reason I'm here. He got a job out here a little over twelve years ago at the Hazelton Science Museum. My grandmother passed, and I just…had to get out of Wisteria." She avoided looking at Diantha as she spoke, instead studying one of the paintings on the wall. "When Steven came out for her funeral, he told me there was a job opening at the museum. At the time, it was just for a desk attendant, and I jumped at the chance, working my way to now being a curator. Kay wan't thrilled. Neither was her, now ex, husband."

Diantha's smile faded. She was at least happy for her. Science and history had always been her strong point, but before she could say anything of that, she had been lead to another question. "I must admit, I wanted to ask about that as well. Last I saw Avery, she had the Jenness last name, not Beecher." Not to mention she was also small enough to still be carried. Now, Avery was already much taller than her.

Cynthia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Oliver," she spat. "Kay met him a year before grandma passed. I always hated him. From the second I met him, he rubbed me the wrong way. He talked too smooth, and was just…I don't know. Too nice. For about two years she refused to listen to any of my concerns. We got in a huge fight, and it was all really dumb." It reminded her that she had still yet to talk to Kay about what Avery had told her.

"I'm so sorry to hear that."

Her shoulders rose in a shrug, finally making eye contact again. Feeling too tense, she put a hand atop the table. "We were both dealing with grandma's death in different ways. I refused to feel and wanted to escape, and she clung to him. They got married shortly after, and he even 'adopted' Avery, giving her his last name. Though, it was years before Kay and I finally started talking again."

"Again, I'm sorry to hear that." For a second, if even that, she thought to put her hand atop hers to offer some form of comfort. However, it was probably far too intimate of a gesture. "Though, I am assuming you two are on far better terms now?"

She nodded. "Once she divorced Oliver, things got better between us. We finally started speaking again, and…yeah." She realized she was giving a lot away. Way more than she had intended to. "It was nice to have my sister back. I missed her and Avery. She got a job offer out here in Easton, so I helped her move. I was going to come out here to be at Avery's band concert next month, but, well, here I am instead."

That took Diantha by surprise. "Oh, that's interesting…" she trailed off.

Cynthia gave her a look, silently asking her to continue the thought.

"Oh, well…" she forced a smile. "We probably still would have run into each other. I always support the arts programs when I can, and since I'm friends with the band directors, I usually go to all the concerts. I'm even volunteering to help with the marching competition the school is hosting in a few weeks."

Cynthia found herself leaning forward just a bit. "Small world," she commented, forcing herself to sit back. She didn't want to appear too interested. She felt just in still feeling anger towards her. "I guess, all things considered, I'm glad it was parent teacher conference. I can only imagine what it would have been like had it either been Kay who saw you, or if it had been until then that we saw each other." At least during parent teacher conference, she had the option to leave right away and avoid her. She probably wouldn't have had the same luxury during the competition.

Maybe.

She still wasn't sure how those worked, anyways.

Diantha was now the one to look away. "Well, considering the last time I saw her and how she was _not_ thrilled to see me, I'm kind of glad I ran into you first."

That confused Cynthia. If memory served right —which, being over ten years could have been wrong— they last time Kay would have been around Diantha would have been while they were still dating.

And until she walked out, Kay had been very fond of Diantha.

"Alright, Cafe latte and a white mocha!"

The two were distracted from their conversation, looking up at the young man as he sat down their drinks. "If you need anything else, let me know!" Maybe he sensed the slight tension between them. Maybe he just had side work he was eager to get to.

With a quick "thank you" before he left, Diantha grabbed her drink, taking a sip. It wasn't nearly as sweet as she had hoped it would be.

"Well, before I ask you about that—" and how tempting it was to just jump into that conversation "—what about you? I get that you're a teacher, but, and don't take this the wrong way, I guess I don't get _why_ you're a teacher. I don't remember that being something you were ever interested in." Hopefully that would lead into the conversation she was really wanting to have.

Diantha sat her cup down, lacing her fingers together atop the table, thankful that she had at least some time to before talking about her last experience with Kay. "Teaching was something I had mulled dover now and then. I never really got the chance to mention it to you, but I had always been thinking of fallback plans. It's rare that a film star can be that their entire life. I wanted to make sure there was something I could do if my career ever failed, and well, it obviously did."

There was a pause so she could sip her coffee again. The hot drink did nothing to calm her nerves. "I…after we split, I started working on getting a masters in teaching. I thought about teaching somewhere in Wisteria, but…I don't know. Something about this area always called to me on those rare occasions I was here for filming." It sparked a memory. One she wasn't sure if she should bring up. Temptation overruled. "I brought you out here once, remember?"

After a moment of thought, she nodded, remembering the trip. A lot of…firsts had happened on that trip. "We were…north of here, right?" Again, she couldn't look at her. She didn't want to give away any bit of what she was now remembering from the trip.

"Yes, up in Redding, filming at Lake Paige for that god awful horror movie I was in." She laughed at the memory. It would at least derail them from thoughts of what else happened on the trip.

Cynthia laughed in turn. "That _was_ a bad movie," she agreed.

The movie had been awful. The director was awful, wanting to change the script every other day, and was constantly yelling at someone. Her costars were less than professional, and the film's editing had been atrocious.

"I'm just glad nobody remembers that movie since it was early in my career." Being one of her first full-length films right before she turned twenty, and being a small production, both were good combinations for it to be left to obscurity.

Cynthia leaned forward, resting an arm on the table. "Sabine was probably your best film," she mused. Really, it was the only one she could immediately recall off the top of her head.

She hummed, shaking her head just a little. "I would actually say Unto The North was my best role. I wasn't the lead, but I personally think it was among my best." She wouldn't begrudge Cynthia if she hadn't seen that one, however.

"I take it that one was after—" _you left_ "—we split?"

"Yes," she answered, sipping her drink.

"Definitely didn't see that one, then," she told her, point blank.

She forced another laugh. "I don't blame you in the slightest." She probably wouldn't have wanted anything to do with herself either.

Cynthia wanted off the subject. "So, okay, why high school?"

She took another sip before continuing, thankful to not delve any further. "Elementary and middle school were just…too young for me to handle. Children are just so impressionable, and I don't think I can explain things as clearly to a child as I can to teenagers. High school always just…I guess made sense." She tired to not think too hard about her answer. It wasn't an interview, after all. "I feel like they're easier and far more fun to work with, and I just…I enjoyed high school, really. I enjoyed what it offered me."

Cynthia took a long sip of her drink. "I guess I'm just surprised because children were never really your thing," she pointed out. Avery had been the only child Diantha ever really took any interest in, from what she remembered.

"No," she began to counter, "It was…it was the idea of having my own child that horrified me. I never wanted to risk becoming like my mother, even for a second. I couldn't…still can't, handle the idea of saying or doing anything like my mother did with me. And raising a child just to prove I wouldn't be like her doesn't feel right," she explained.

That took Cynthia's interest. In ways, it felt like she was insinuating that Diantha no longer spoke with her mother. The way she held herself when talking about her felt more closed off than anything else they had talked about. They always had a rocky relationship, but asking her about that wasn't on her list. Maybe if she had time she would ask…

Diantha continued. "Actually, some of my favorite memories were of babysitting Avery with you. It's amazing that she's now sixteen! Honestly, I'm quite disappointed that they moved her from my classes. She really is a wonderful student, and always had an answer for me while we were reading _Grand Gulliver_." Her smile turned into a bit of a grin. "Though, now I'm suspecting a certain someone helped with her understanding of that book. She seemed to know exactly what I was going to ask before I even asked it."

Cynthia looked away from her, amused. "I don't know what you're talking about," she lied.

"I had a feeling," she teased.

"I only remember that book so well because it was your favorite, and you were always talking about it," she continued.

"It's a good book!"

The amusement in her eyes almost took Diantha off guard when she started paying attention to it. Finally, Cynthia was no longer giving her _that_ look.

Honestly, she had expected the coffee date to be awful and strained, but how easily she found herself talking to her as if there wasn't a huge rift between them. Sure, they were still guarded with one another, and there were conversations she didn't want to have —like the one involving Kay— but, overall, she found herself happy that she had at least asked to see her.

"I never said it wasn't a good book. It just wasn't my favorite." That was more or less a lie. It was her favorite at one point, only by virtue of it being Diantha's.

Diantha's grin persisted. "That's because you liked that god awful _Runner In The Wild_ book."

Cynthia rolled her eyes. It was never really her favorite, but she had enjoyed it far more than Diantha ever did. For a second, she was tempted to call Diantha a phony just to see if it would still get a rise out of her. Instead, she opted to move on. "How about instead of talking about my love of bad literature, I ask you about the last time you saw Kay, because I must be forgetting something."

She would have much rather talked about _Runner In The Wild_ than that. "Oh, right…well, okay," she began, hoping she could at least get across how uncomfortable she was with the subject. "It wasn't long after your grandmother had passed. Steven had contacted Siebold, and so I found out through him. I had tried to see you to offer you my condolences." She watched as Cynthia's brow furrowed in confusion. "…Kay never told you, did she?"

"No," she answered, confused as to why it was never brought up. Then again, she had always found it weird that Siebold and his father had showed up to her grandmother's funeral, but Diantha herself hadn't even bothered to show up.

Crossing her arms, she felt one of the larger dips in her skin beneath her sleeve.

"Oh," Diantha awkwardly began, now wanting to talk about it less. She wasn't sure how much she was supposed to give away. How much else did Cynthia not know? "I had…free time between two of my films, and I wanted to see if I could offer you any comfort with her passing. I knew how important she was to both you and Kay. When I showed up at your door, it was Kay who answered, and she made it very clear that I needed to stay away from you. She also said something along the lines of, if I ever dared to show my face around you, she would make me regret it." It wasn't a fun memory to think back on.

Cynthia inwardly grimaced. "Yeah, that…sounds like Kay." The time frame would have been when they were on thin ice with one another, but it did feel nice to know that she did still have her back. As harsh as it might have been.

"I just took that as you didn't want to ever see me again, and since I couldn't blame you, I never pressed the issue." She did rank it as a regret. Where would they be now if she had just fought harder?

A rabbit hole she didn't really want to go down again. Not after so many years of avoiding it, anyways.

Silence followed, leading only the sounds of the cafe around them.

They both looked up when their waiter dropped off the check, with a promise to still tend to them, but only gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

With the conversation having taken an uncomfortable turn, Cynthia could see that Diantha was ready to excuse herself. Not that she was any different. She now had questions for Kay, and needed to debate with herself on whether or not to wait and ask them.

However, she still hadn't asked the question that had haunted her since their chance reunion. While she likely would be in Easton for awhile longer, she didn't want to risk losing the courage to ask, and still never knowing. Not when the opportunity to find out had been practically handed to her.

"Can I…make this worse one last time, and ask you something that's been on my mind for awhile?"

Diantha nodded for her to go ahead. Might as well get it out of the way.

Her mouth opened to form a question, but at first, nothing came out. Maybe the thought of finally getting an answer was getting to her. "What happened? Why did you just leave? I tried to figure that out for _years_ , but I never did, and still don't, understand. I thought everything between us had been fine."

Diantha bit her lip, looking down at the cup in her hands. Her lips curved into a forced smile. "My dear Cynthia—" they both had almost forgot what that sounded like "—I didn't want to leave you. Not for a second." Finally, she held her gaze once more.

It was hardly the response Cynthia was looking for. "Then why _did_ you?"

Her laugh was nervous. "I…I left because I didn't want you to hate me."

Again, not the response Cynthia had been looking for. Leaving her with no explanation hardly saved her that.

She remained silent, forcing her to continue.

"Kathi Lee assured me you would," she told her with a shrug.

Cynthia didn't think she could understand less, but Diantha was proving her wrong on all fronts. Sure, she had always known that Kathi Lee was not fond of her in the least, but to go as far as to convince Diantha that she would hate her?

"I…" Diantha sighed, the words paining her. She didn't want to say it, but after thirteen years, Cynthia at least deserved an explanation. "I intended to ask you to marry me, Cynthia." Her eyes widened. "I told Kathi Lee there was nothing she could do to convince me otherwise. I loved you. I loved you more than I loved my career. I didn't see it as likely, but had the decision come, I would have gladly given it all up to be with you. I had the trip planned for when I would propose, and everything. Siebold and Steven even went with me to pick out an engagement ring."

Cynthia stared at her, wide-eyed and unable to find a response.

At the very least, it wasn't just Kay who she needed to question now.

"But," Diantha carried on, "Kathi Lee assured me that it would be the downfall of our relationship. She assured me that my career would take off, and it would slowly drive us apart. She assured me that you would come to hate me because I would never have time for you. I was young. I let her get under my skin." She felt her eyes begin to sting as she cursed her younger self. "I decided that I would rather end our relationship on my terms, rather than watch the woman I loved more than anything come to loathe me." Even after thirteen years and other failed relationships, if she was honest with herself, she felt like it was a stupid decision.

Every beat of Cynthia's heart hurt as she still struggled for a response. Nothing she had said had even come close to what she had convinced herself of. "What about Mel? I had convinced myself you left me for him." Left and cheated.

She shook her head, looking away from her once more. "Oh, no. Mel was…he was…Mel. I did come to love him, but it was never close to the love I had for you. We were a good couple to the publics' eye; a pair made by Kathi Lee and my mother. We were destined for divorce."

How ironic. To leave Cynthia because she feared divorce, to end up with a man she was sure from the beginning she would divorce.

If it was even possible, Cynthia's understanding was now less.

Seeing that there were only a few ways to continue digging her grave even deeper, Diantha took a steadying breath before rising to her feet. Snatching the bill off the table, she looked to Cynthia. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of grading I must get caught up on before the weekend ends. It's been lovely, Cynthia."

Half turned away, she quickly added, though felt she shouldn't, "If you're not feeling as embarrassed as I currently am later, do let me know if you would like to see me again before you leave. Because I would enjoy that." Her face and neck were burning at that point. "I hope Kay gets better soon."

Cynthia made motion to speak as she watched her walk away, but nothing came out. Unwilling to follow her, despite how much part of her was screaming for her to do so —because what a note to end on— she sat at the table, staring at her half empty cup.

The past week had already been a whirlwind. Adding the information that she could have been married to Diantha almost thirteen years ago only made things worse.

With a steadying breath, and confirmation that Diantha had already paid and left, she grumbled to herself, "Kay is going to enjoy this…"

* * *

Cynthia moved about Kay's apartment, fitting the sheets back to the bed she had been sleeping in. With Kay being able to come home the next day, she wanted to make sure her bed was clean, along with the rest of her apartment.

Avery could be heard practicing her instrument in the other room. The flute music would be going along nicely, only to abruptly stop at a wrong note, followed by the most anguished groan Cynthia had ever heard.

From the dresser, she heard her phone ringing. Placing the comforter on the bed, she walked over to pick it up. Thankfully, it was Steven.

She had texted him earlier, asking him to call her, even prefacing it with that she was upset with something Diantha had told her.

"Hey, Steven," She answered.

 _"Hello, Cynthia. I take it your coffee date with Diantha didn't go over well?"_

She withheld a laugh. "Something like that," she told him.

 _"Anything in particular?"_

She figured she might as well just go straight for it. "I probably shouldn't have. I probably should have completely moved past this now, but with her, you know, suddenly showing back up in my life, I had to ask."

 _"Ask what?"_

"Why she left without an explanation."

He made a disapproving noise on his end before clearing his throat. _"Well, what did she tell you?"_

"That she didn't want to, and that she had actually wanted to marry me."

 _"Oh."_

"Yeah, _oh_ ," she echoed. "And, interestingly enough, she mentioned that you went with her and Siebold to pick out the engagement ring. Any reason that never came up?" She knew she shouldn't be taking her frustration on him like that, but it felt like such an odd thing to have not told her.

He struggled for a response. _"Well…okay, yes, I remember that. She asked me to go so I could verify that she was getting a good deal and to say if I thought you would like it, and Siebold, well, he was always her number one support anyways."_

"Why did you never tell me?"

He sighed. _"I never told you because I knew how badly you were hurting over her leaving you!"_

That didn't help her anger any. "I didn't have a meltdown over it until two years later!" She defended.

 _"Exactly!"_ He countered. _"I'm glad I never told you, because I don't know how different your meltdown would have been! How do you think you would have handled it, seeing nothing but her engagement to Mel on every other media outlet, all while knowing she had wanted to marry you? How much worse would it all have been?"_

Silence fell over her, as she realized that he was right. With a sigh, she let the tension fall from her shoulders, and sat on the bed. "I'm sorry. I hadn't thought of that," she told him. "Thank you. It probably _would_ have been worse. I'm sorry I took my anger out on you."

 _"Considering everything you're dealing with, it's not like I don't understand. Now, adding Diantha to the mix? I can't imagine how you must be feeling."_

"I don't even think I understand how I'm feeling," she admitted.

 _"Well, anything else troubling you? Surly you didn't just talk about that,"_ he continued.

She nodded as if he could see. "Yes, actually. Despite all that, it was…" it almost pained her to say it. "Nice to see her? I wasn't completely open with her. All morning I was dreading it, and worried I was just going to end up exploding on her but…It was…I don't know. Something like…"

 _"Something like old times?"_ He finished.

"Yeah, kinda…but one the same note, I don't want to feel that way about her? She _wrecked_ me, Steven. I don't want to feel anything positive about her," she admitted, laying back to lean against the comforter.

He hummed. _"Let me ask you this, Cynthia. Why exactly did you agree to seeing her?"_

She took a deep breath, contemplating her response. "I…I wanted answers."

 _"And now that you have some answers, how are you feeling?"_

"Honestly? I think I just have more questions than when I agreed to see her. I still don't completely understand why she left. I spend years convincing myself she cheated on me. Just saying her stupid manager made her do it felt kind of cheap, to be honest. I also don't know what's with her and her mother. I'm assuming they don't talk anymore based on some of the things she said." So many questions, so little time.

 _"I wish I had a clear answer for you, Cynthia."_

A sudden sharp screech of some upper register note pierced the air, causing Cynthia to visibly wince.

 _"Goodness, are you two strangling canaries over there?"_ He followed up with a light laugh.

"No, Avery is just practicing her flute music. Music was never my thing, so all I can say about it is it looks high and fast…"

* * *

 _Walking carefully up the steps to Cynthia's apartment, Diantha adjusted the scarf around her neck after ringing the doorbell. It had been a little over two years since she last saw Cynthia, and while her timing was less than ideal, she didn't want to not say anything to her. Not when the most important person in her life had recently passed. And not when Steven had practically begged her to be there._

 _The door opened, surprising her to see her darker-haired sibling. "Oh, Kay!"_

 _Her expression fell instantly. "The hell are you doing here?" She asked, a hand on her hip._

 _She did her best to remain stoic. She couldn't blame Kay for being protective over Cynthia. "I was— Steven told me that your grandmother had passed away. I wanted to offer my condolences," she explained._

 _Kay stepped forward, out into the cold, shutting the door behind her. The fire in her eyes briefly intimidated Diantha. She and her sister shared the same look, but while Cynthia was calm with her anger, and tended to internalize it more, Kay was more likely to lash out. "What the fuck do you think your tramp ass is doing, coming here like this?" She pointed to the ring on Diantha's finger. "With that fucking rock on your hand? You think_ that's _what Cynthia wants to see right now? You think she even wants to see_ you _right now? After what you did?"_

 _Diantha backed up, almost losing her footing on the step._

 _"You just need to just go back to your shit man you left her for, and don't even bother coming around here again."_

 _Huffing, Diantha wanted to defend herself. "Kay, I think—"_

 _"I don't give a single_ fuck _about what_ you _think! I_ know _you need to leave, and woman, so fucking help me if I ever see you again," she threatened._

 _Feeling her nails digging into her palm, it took everything in her to remain level-headed. "Fine. My condolences on your grandmother's passing. If there is anything you, or Cynthia, need from me, don't hesitate to ask. Steven knows how to get ahold of me," she hissed, turning around to leave._

 _Kay began grumbling to herself, but considering it was loud enough for Diantha to hear, she knew it was intentional._

 _"Fucking skank ass bitch, thinking she can come around here and schmooze her way back into Cynthia's life, well fucking think again you sorry sack of—" the door then slammed behind her._

 _Tears stung at the corner of her eyes. She had been witness to plenty of name calling. It, unfortunately, came with the business she was in. But that had hurt on a whole new level. Nasty names coming from someone you cared about hurt in ways she would never wish on anyone._

 _"I'm sorry, Cynthia," she said under her breath, heading back towards her car. Once seated, she reached for her phone. The one even Kathi Lee didn't know about. Her only bit of privacy._

 _Dialing the number Steven had given her, it was only a few rings before he answered._

"Diantha—"

 _"Kay doesn't want me to see Cynthia. I'm not going to push it. I see no point." She didn't want to delve further. She wanted to leave it at that._

"Diantha, please—!"

 _"No, Steven…just…for me, do this one thing: be there for her. She doesn't want me back in her life."_

"Kay doesn't want you in her life. You don't know what Cynthia's thinking! Diantha, she's already—"

 _"Please…let's just keep this easy. I…if you would tell me where Carolina is going to be buried, I'm going to pay for everything, but don't tell her I did. Just let it be the last thing I can do for her. Apart from that, just be there for her. If anyone can make her happy, it's you, Steven…"_


	9. Moving Forward

Chapter Nine

Moving Forward

Grumbling to herself, Kay waited for Cynthia to get around to her side of the car. She had already protested needing help walking earlier in the day, which lead her to nearly falling face-first into the hospital pavement. Had it not been for the nurse who caught her, she might have ended up there a few days extra.

Despite how much she hated being handled like she was made of glass, the sooner she got better, the sooner it would all be over.

Never before had Kay hated how low to the ground Cynthia's car was until she was having to get help to just get out of the vehicle. Holding on tightly to her, the short steps from the parking lot to her apartment had never felt more difficult. Everything about holding onto her older sister because just taking a few steps was draining, and left her feeling humiliated.

"Living room or your bed?" Cynthia asked her.

"Bedroom." The less Cynthia had to help her move from place to place, the better. Surly getting around her room, and to her own bathroom wouldn't be much of a struggle.

Looking around, she took note that her apartment was cleaner than the morning before she had been admitted into the hospital. Something about it made her feel guilty.

After Cynthia helped her get as comfortable as possible in her room, she stood at the foot of her bed. "I'm planning on staying here for this whole coming week. I'll make sure Avery still gets to and from school, and you wont have to worry about cooking or anything. But the week after I'm definitely going to have to get back to work."

"Yeah, yeah, sounds good."

Cynthia frowned. "You're extra crabby today."

She grumbled. "Being completely off those painkillers sucks. Everything still fucking hurts. My bad."

Cynthia sighed, not sure what to say in response.

She wasn't looking forward to sleeping on a couch for a week, and Kay wasn't looking forward to being doted on for the next week…

* * *

Sitting in her car for a few extra seconds, Cynthia looked over her reflection in the rearview mirror. Normally, she would put her hair back, but getting back in the swing of things, and accounting for an extra hour to commute from Easton, had left her feeling like a mess.

Briefly, she considered just telling Steven that she was no longer coming into work, but with how long she had already been away, she willed herself to get heading towards the museum.

After a quick turnaround to make sure her car had been locked, she entered the building, set on making her way to Steven's office to clock in.

"Cynthia!"

However, a side trip to talk to Skyla couldn't hurt. Especially with how rare it was to see her in the working weekday morning shifts. "Morning, Skyla," She greeted, heading for the reception desk. Already the sense of normalcy was helping take her mind off of everything.

"You've been gone for forever! How are you? How's your sister and niece? Steven just told us all you've had a family emergency, but since I've only ever heard you talk about your sister and your niece, I figured it had to do with them!" She asked, speaking a mile a minute.

The prying might have otherwise annoyed her coming from anyone else, but there was something incredibly endearing about it. It was a pleasant change to how down she had been the last time she saw her. "I've only been gone for what, three weeks?"

Her blue eyes stayed wide. "And considering I've never heard of you missing a day of work before? I've been super worried about you!"

She smiled at her. "I appreciate the concern, Skyla, but don't worry. Things have settled down quite a bit. I should be here regularly now."

She sat back down on her chair, crossing her hands on her lap. "Okay. It's good to have you back."

The simple notion warmed her. "It's good to be back." Dealing with potential crabby guests might just be more preferable to dealing with a definitely crabby sister.

With that, she headed for Steven's office, eager to know what she needed to do for the day. She greeted him with a quick "Good morning," upon entering his office.

When he looked up at her, his shoulders fell in relief. "You don't know how happy I am to see you."

She fought the temptation to laugh. "Man, if I knew I would get this kind of reception, I would stay away for long periods more often," she joked, taking a seat in front of him. "How much do I need to get caught up on?"

He covered his face with his hands. "Thankfully, not too much." He ran his hands down his face, exemplifying how tired he was. "I made sure that you would have as little to worry about when you got back as possible. The new traveling exhibit is in, so I just want you to familiarize yourself with it, make a few calls today, and maybe take a few evening tours if you're up for it."

"I appreciate it, Steven, but you don't have to ease me back into this. I know this place like the back of my hand," she told him.

He leaned back in his chair. "Do you remember what this visiting exhibit is?"

She went to answer him, but stopped short. For the life of her, she couldn't remember what the exhibit was supposed to be. She would blame it on not being archaeology, and therefore, not as exciting to her…But if it was archaeology-related, then she definitely had no excuse. "Okay, fine, I don't remember," She conceded.

He chuckled lightly. "Biolumi—"

It clicked. "Bioluminescence! In nature! That's right! They were supposed to start taking down the visiting ocean exhibit the night I left."

He continued laughing. "You really should check it out before we open. It's really stunning! The blacklight and how everything just glows is quite something." He began looking through his desk drawers. Pulling out a large packet of papers, he handed it to her. "Here's the information packet on it. You'll want to read through that before giving any tours."

She took it from his hands, flipping through it. Lots of small text and many diagrams. "Might wanna not put me on tours until tomorrow, but everything else I can definitely handle." She stood up, ready to get to work. "Also…thank you for being so patient with me these past few weeks."

"I know how important Kay and Avery are to you. Don't worry about it. If you need any extra time off, just let me know, okay?" He told her.

She smiled at him before turning to leave. The packet was heavy in her hands.

"Oh! One thing before you go!"

She stopped in the doorway, looking at him expectantly.

He put his hands together atop his desk. "I was thinking…During the expansion for adding on a new building—" That meant his appeal to the city had been approved "—How does an office all of your own sound?" He asked it so plainly it took her a moment to process.

"Like, an office-office? Like your office?" She asked. She already had a desk of her own, but it was shared in a space with others. The thought of having a whole room for herself left her feeling giddy.

He nodded. "Yes, much like my own. Probably same size and everything." He spoke so casually.

She blinked a few times, still processing. "What made you decide I finally deserve an office of my own?"

He shrugged. "The second I realized that Wallace was right. This place _does_ descend into something akin to madness without you. You're an integral member of this team, and it's passed time for me to express that to you…"

* * *

Walking in the apartment still riding the excitement of eventually having her own office — _her_ office! A place where she could put _her_ things! A place to do _her_ work!— Cynthia called out to her sister, hearing a muffled " _shit_ " in response. The excitement was immediately gone.

Rounding the corner of the half-wall, she looked around for Kay. Towards the kitchen, slumped against the wall, Kay sat. "Kay!"

"I'm fine!" She responded, wiping her bangs from her face.

Cynthia dropped her bag, rushing to her side. The second she leaned down, Kay swatted at her.

"I'm fine!" She restated, finding it too hard to control her anger. She was already in enough pain as it was. Cynthia doting on her was the last thing she wanted.

"What happened?" Cynthia asked, ignoring her swatting.

She grabbed the hand Cynthia extended to her again. " _I'm fine. Leave me alone_."

Cynthia's expression hardened. Irritation was quickly replacing worry. "You're literally sitting on the ground from, I'm assuming, falling."

Kay rolled her eyes, letting go of her. "I lost my balance is all. I'm fine. Quit babying me."

Cynthia felt lost for a response. Yet one seemed to come anyways. "Quit babying you? _Quit babying you?_ " She restated. Maybe it wasn't the response she was looking for. Maybe it was a response that she wanted to say, rather than something she would have tiptoed around otherwise. "Do I need to remind you that you just had a huge surgery, with complications that might have been able to kill you?"

"Yeah! I was there! It fuckin' sucked, Cynthia!"

"I'm not babying you! I'm trying to take care of you!" Now they were just in a yelling match.

Leaning forward despite the pain, she got in Cynthia's face. "Maybe I don't want you to fucking take care of me like this. Maybe I want to sit here on the floor, seconds away from crying because I'm in _so much fucking pain_ that I can barely see straight."

" _Well maybe I can't handle losing you again, Kay!_ " The outburst caught both of them off-guard. Cynthia, because it wasn't something she ever planned to admit out-loud. Kay, because finally she allowed herself to see just how much Cynthia was also hurting. While all of her own pain was physical, Cynthia's pain was emotional, and much easier to hide.

Or maybe she wasn't even hiding it, Kay had been choosing to not see her sister's pain.

Cynthia fell back on her knees, digging her fingers in her hair, the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. "Kay," she continued, voice shaky. "You don't understand how much it destroyed me when you stopped talking to me. Not only did we lose Grandma, but it felt like losing you and Avery, too."

Kay said nothing in response, leaning back against the wall.

"I'm sorry I'm being so obnoxious and basically in your face all the time. I'm sorry, but it's just…I can't lose you again. I can't lose you and Avery. I just got you back, a-and…I just can't." She wiped away the threat of tears. She wouldn't cry, no matter how much she wanted to.

"We've…both been avoiding this, haven't we?" Kay said, looking away from her. Watching her resist crying was making her want to cry. The last thing she wanted was for Avery to come home and see them both in a fit of tears.

Cynthia nodded in response. "It's…not going to be a fun conversation. I've been avoiding it because I don't want you to think I'm blaming you."

"I mean…I'm probably not blameless in all of this. I did cut you out because of the dumb man I was with," She admitted. Taking a deep breath to center herself, she motioned for Cynthia to sit by her. "Let's get this out of the way already."

Sitting next to her would at least allow her to stare at the table instead of having to make direct eye contact. "Was it just Oliver keeping you from talking to me?"

She shrugged. "Kind of. He was a big part of it at first, but…after about a year, I just felt too guilty to talk to you. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to apologize for telling you to fuck off and stay out of mine and my daughter's life, and then it just went on for however many years."

"If it wasn't for Steven, Kay…" She pulled her knees up to her, wrapping her arms around them. "I don't think I'd be here right now. He was basically the only thing holding me together for the longest time. Like I said, losing you and Avery _devastated_ me."

"I'm sorry," Kay said, trying not to imagine a world without her sister. Despite how much she had been getting on her never as of late, the thought of never seeing her again was enough to leave her feeling choked up.

"You could have called," Cynthia said, barely above a whisper.

"I mean…I did…just…I should have years ago. I was scared you hated me, and wanted nothing to do with me."

Despite herself, Cynthia let out an amused laugh. "Are you kidding? All I wanted was my sister and niece back. Even if I had ever been mad at you, I don't think I could ever hate you."

Kay's shoulders slumped. Lolling her head to the side, she looked at her sister. "I'm sorry," She said again, finding her voice starting to waver. "I'm sorry for telling you to fuck off. I'm sorry for forcing you out of my life. I'm sorry I let Oliver convince me that you were a bad sister. I'm sorry I let him convince me you only hurt yourself for attention. I'm sorry I left you when you needed me the most…when we needed each other the most." As she continued, tears spilled over her cheeks. She told herself it was mostly a result from all the pain she was feeling; not that years of guilt were finally surfacing.

"What did Oliver have against me?"

She shrugged, wiping away her tears. "You hated him. He hated you. He wanted it to be just me and him, and he basically had it that way by always convincing me that everyone outside of us was out to get me. I don't know why I didn't see it for so long. I should have seen the writing on the wall when Avery refused to call him dad." Among other things.

Which reminded Cynthia. "Why is Avery scared to tell you she likes girls?"

To her surprise, Kay laughed. "I mean, it's not like I _don't_ know. I figured from the day she came home in first grade telling me all about how she was going to marry her best friend Tawny."

Cynthia allowed herself to laugh a little as well. "But why won't she tell you? I mean…It's not like she's coming from a family without any gay women."

She withheld a snarky comment. "The last few years of our relationship, anytime I would just in passing mention that I found some woman pretty, Oliver would take it as 'Oh hey fuck off I'm gonna go marry her now', and take it all way too personally."

"I'm glad you got away from him," She said.

In a quick, albeit painful motion, Kay leaned over, resting her head on Cynthia's shoulder. "Me too." It wasn't until that moment that it really sunk in that she was away from her ex husband. For the past few months she had forced herself to not think too much on it; to work on setting herself and Avery up on a better path forward.

"The girl with curly brown hair, right?" Kay asked, breaking the silence.

Cynthia laughed a bit, not needing any clarification on what she was talking about. "Color guard."

"A year ahead of Avery?"

"Yeah."

She nodded. "Told you, it's not like I don't know. She and uh…Maggie, right?" She waited for confirmation before continuing. "They were super fast friends. Half the time when she tells me she's texting her section leader, I'm pretty sure she's actually talking to her. I just don't want to pressure her or anything. She can tell me when she's ready. All I can do in the meantime is just…try to make sure I give her an environment where she feels comfortable."

Cynthia couldn't argue with it. "I mean, hell, she's doing a thousand times better than you were at her age," she joked, laughing as Kay weakly smacked her.

"I mean, you're not wrong, but also: jerk." Her tone was light, leaving no room for any actual anger. It was a true statement, and the fact that her child _was_ doing better than her was only able to leave her feeling prideful. At least there was one thing in her life she hadn't completely messed up.

After sitting in silence for awhile longer, Cynthia found herself ready to move. "You ready to let me help you stand?" She asked.

Kay leaned over, taking her head off her shoulder and responding with a quiet, "Yeah," before finally accepting her help. Cynthia helped her up, careful to not bring her up too fast. Once on her feet, her first thought was to let go. To be stubborn and go back to insisting that she could do things on her own. Instead, she just looked at her before bringing her into a hug. "I'm so glad you're here," she admitted.

But before Cynthia could say anything in response, Kay was just as quick to pull away. "Alright. That's enough sibling affection for the month," she grumbled, putting a hand on the wall to steady herself.

Cynthia could only laugh. It was so much like Kay, and the fact alone couldn't have made her happier. A few minutes of a heart-to-heart didn't make up for years of being shut out, but it was a step in the right direction. Something she couldn't be more thankful for.

"So, what we're you going for before you fell?" She asked, derailing the conversation.

She groaned in response, leaning towards the wall. "I just wanted some juice. Teach me to get sick of water."

Cynthia laughed, wholeheartedly. "If you can get to the couch, I'll bring you some juice. Do you wanna snack to go with that?"

She rolled her eyes, working on making her way towards the couch. Thankfully with the apartment not being huge, it wasn't much of a walk. "Shut up." A few seconds after settling down, Cynthia joined her in the living room, handing her a glass.

"I just want to ask one more thing. Its one of those things I've been avoiding as well," Cynthia said.

"Fine," Kay answered, sipping the orange juice.

"So…" she tried to figure out how to best say it. Every iteration of this conversation in her head always lead to an argument. "Diantha showed up after Grandma passed, and tried to like…give her condolences or whatever?"

It didn't even take a second for her to remember it. "Oh, yeah, and I basically told her to fuck off. Probably called her a hoe, too?"

"Wanna say you threatened bodily harm to her as well." She kept her tone even.

Kay shrugged, setting her glass on the coffee table. "Look, just because we were at each others throats every other hour, didn't mean I was gonna let her back into your life. Not after you had a meltdown days before because of her."

"Do you remember your reasoning?"

She gave her a pointed look. "Oh, yeah, seeing her show up out of nowhere with that ugly-ass rock on her fuckin' hand. That would have made you feel so much better."

It at least got a laugh from Cynthia…

* * *

Sitting at her desk, the final bell having rung fifteen minutes ago, Diantha stayed behind to get a start on grading papers. Nothing too difficult had been assigned, so it was work she could finish before going home. The less work she had to finish up over the weekend the better. She had gotten behind in her weekly planning.

"Hey, Miss Gardner~"

She looked up, a smile breaking across her face at the tall young woman in her doorway. "Elesa! So good to see you!"

Elesa had been one of her students, both in her literature class as well as in her very first group of homeroom freshmen. The entire time she was in school, she had never once made any indication that she knew of who Diantha had been. Only on the very last day of classes, just as she was walking out the door for the final time did she give away that she knew about her film career. Her ability to keep a secret was nothing short of impressive.

She was also one of a handful of students who would come back to visit her now and then. Once out of high school, Diantha would mentor her when possible as she made her way into a modeling career. While modeling wasn't something she herself had done much of, the territory was similar enough to being a film star. Elesa was always greatful for it, anyways.

"I see you went through with dying your hair black," Diantha commented, watching her take a seat in the closest desk.

She ran her fingers through her dark hair, pulling some of it forward. "Yeah, I'm happy with the change, and— wait, first, is it cool that I'm here? I don't wanna get you in trouble or take away from you grading."

Diantha nodded. "You're fine. I always have time for you, Elesa." So long as alumni were allowed on the school's campus, she never had a problem with it.

"Rad. Anyways, Skyla was more than happy to help me dye it, so I didn't even have to worry about a salon not doing it how I wanted."

As she fiddled with the strands, Diantha noticed a slight blue sheen to it when in just the right lighting. "How _are_ things with Skyla?" She asked. It was something Elesa had also been coming to her about as of late.

She shrugged, not making eye contact. "Haven't seen her too much lately. When she's not in class, she's usually at work. Something about her boss being out for family stuff, and now the place is just in chaos. I dunno."

"Sounds like you wish you knew," Diantha observed, leaning back in her chair. Briefly, she wondered where her friend worked.

"The night we dyed my hair was pretty much the only time I've seen her over the past few weeks. I mean, I've had a few photoshoots to keep me occupied, and I've finally settled on a major, so I'm mentally prepping for the next classes I'm going to be taking."

Diantha smiled. "Before we delve into things with Skyla, what major have you decided on?"

She crossed her legs, finally looking at her. "I'm sure it comes as no surprise, but I'm going with fashion design."

"Very nice. Definitely something I think you will excel in. Though," she began, her tone shifting to something more joking. "I still think you should go for a literature degree. You write such fabulous papers." She began laughing as Elesa groaned in response.

She stopped playing with her hair. "I've written more than enough papers for one lifetime, thank you. Half of them for your class," She jabbed.

Diantha laughed once more. "I'm joking of course. I am proud of you for finally deciding on something."

"Thanks." She said it almost shyly, but Diantha could feel how genuine it was. She always wondered if she got enough praise in her daily life with how she tended to react to it.

"So, Elesa, are you here because you have modeling questions, or because you are having trouble with Skyla?" Diantha asked, already sure of the answer. Not that she minded. She saw a lot of herself in the young woman.

She sighed. "It's Skyla. Sorry," she quickly apologized. "I just don't really have anybody to talk to about this. Dad's so mentally checked out when it comes to relationship stuff."

"No need to apologize. I know what that's like."

She continued. "I think I messed up. I openly flirted with her, and I know she was flirting with me!" She talked with her hands, and it was something Diantha found endearing. "I thought I was finally going to just get the courage and kiss her! But just before I could like…get that courage, she basically just got up and left."

Diantha hummed in response. "Did something happen?" She asked.

She shrugged, crossing her arms. "I had just finished drying my hair. She was sitting on my couch, I was on the floor in front of her, so she could style my hair. She stopped, and so I looked up at her to see if something was wrong, but then we just…looked at one another. I was like…'Hey', and then she laughed. Just as I was turning around to face her better, she just got up and said something about the time and just…left. So…I don't know. I've honestly been too scared to talk to her since. "

Not knowing every minute detail, Diantha felt as lost as she figured Elesa was. "I…I can't say that I have any advice other than talk to her. Getting your feelings out there is your best bet, and be sure to use 'I' statements. Otherwise it might come across as blaming her."

She grumbled. "I know, I know. It's like, I'm almost one-hundred percent positive she feels the same. It's like we're just avoiding talking about it because we're both just losers who are scared we're wrong."

"Don't talk so negatively about yourself. It's perfectly fine to fear rejection. Even now I still have a healthy fear of it. But is just the fear of being wrong the only thing holding you back?" She asked. She had an idea of what the real problem was, but she wanted Elesa to come to it on her own. She didn't want to risk projecting anything onto her.

She thought over her answer for a moment, looking intently at the whiteboard in front of her. "I think we're both scared of my modeling career getting in the way. I'm scared she thinks I'm above her in some way, and I'm…I don't know. It's not like I'm even _somebody_ right now, but if I ever was? Aim high, sure, but its not like I'm going to become Cordova's Sweetheart overnight or anything…But if I do?"

Just like that, she had come to the exact conclusion Diantha had. She had to pick her next words carefully. "I completely understand where you're coming from. I had the same worries when I was starting to become somebody." She had Elesa's full attention by then. "The thing that got me in the end— well, one of many things— was that I never communicated my fears to the woman I was dating. Things that were bothering me, I just kept to myself. Be open with one another. I know it's easier said than done, but being upfront as possible is honestly the best thing you can do."

Elesa said nothing, only humming in thought. The sound was a bit distressed.

"Besides, with you? I'm honestly not too worried. From everything you've told me, your agent is very good. She guides you well, but doesn't overstep." As an aside, she added. "If she ever does, find yourself a good lawyer and drop her before she can attempt to ruin your life."

That garnered Elesa's attention once more. "Oh, sweet!" She was finally smiling again, and her tone was amused. "Am I finally gonna get the real backstory to what happened with you and your manager? I've read articles, sure, but I'd love to hear the real story." She put her chin in her palm, looking expectantly at Diantha.

She laughed, shaking her head. "I'm afraid not, dear Elesa…"

* * *

 **My sincerest apologies for the delay. Took an extra semester to graduate and taking care of my mental health has consumed a lot of time.**

 **Hopefully things will be more regular from here on out.**

 **Thank you for your continued support!**

 **~Tori**


	10. Competition

Chapter Ten

Competition

Diantha checked her phone as she left the gate to the football field, double checking her task for the band directors. Aspen High School's band filled the surrounding area with their music, the loud impact distracting her from her thoughts. There was a time and day when constant barrages of different sounds and voices were something she didn't even bat her eyes at, but now, it was overwhelming if she wasn't prepared for it.

Rereading the memo, she set off to her task, a key to the band room in her hands.

Normally, she would work with other band parents at the entrance, taking money and giving entrance wristbands. This year, the head director, Melissa, was having her act as a personal assistant.

If she thought about it too much, it was a tad ironic. She had a handful of personal assistants in her day, and now she was the one fulfilling that role.

Taking the back way into the school to avoid the main parking lot, she took off for the band room.

* * *

Standing with the door to her car open, Cynthia contemplated bringing the jacket she had in her hands. It was nothing heavy like a winter coat, but she wasn't sure the weather warranted it yet. In the back of her mind she knew she only brought it because she was still conscious of the looks the scarring on her arm would attract.

"I'm not about to sit here and burn," she said to herself, deciding to leave the jacket behind. Throwing it to the passenger seat, she locked her car behind her, and began to make her way towards what she figured was the entrance to the football field. A band could be heard on the field, the melody soft, with the music from the front ensemble being the most prominent.

Kay had given her vague instructions on where to go, and thankfully there was a steady stream of people to follow into the venue.

Approaching the back of the school, not far off from where she would pick up Avery after band practice, a familiar face caught her attention. Diantha had just rounded the corner of the school, carrying something in her hands that Cynthia couldn't distinguish.

Lingering memories of their mess of a coffee date kept Cynthia hesitant to even approach.

As fate would have it, Diantha took notice of her, and without meaning to, Cynthia walked towards her, trying to think of what to say. Her mind was blank as they met in the middle. It was clear to Cynthia that she was working the competition, but for the life of her, she couldn't think of what to say.

Diantha also was struggling with figuring out what to say. She felt like she had hardly any time to really process their conversations from their coffee date. She had been meaning to call Siebold to get his assistance in the matter, but with how busy things were leading up to fall break, she had yet to get around to it.

Before either of them could get a word out, a yell caught their attention.

" _Grab that! Grab that!_ " Followed by a slew of curses.

Looking towards the hill, the two saw a group of students and a teacher not far behind them chasing after a marimba that was quickly picking up speed as it rolled its way towards the lower parking lot, not far off from where they were standing.

Without thinking, Diantha dropped everything she was holding, running to stop it before it could topple over or hit a car. Cynthia was right on her heels.

Seconds to spare, Diantha and Cynthia put themselves in front of the instrument, stopping it from hitting a small blue car.

Both women let out a grunt of pain as the instrument rammed into them, sending mallets falling out of the pockets, and the ends of the keys coming off track.

Diantha sucked in her breath with a quiet, _"son of a bitch_ ", her knuckles white from gripping the metal frame of the instrument.

If she weren't in an equal amount of pain, Cynthia might have laughed.

This wasn't any bit of how she had planned their next conversation to go. At least now she could think of something to talk about. "You okay?" She asked, forcing herself to breathe.

Diantha only nodded, unable to get anything else out.

Cynthia pushed the marimba away from them as a uniformed student approached them, out of breath and carrying a few multi-colored mallets. "Thank you—I'm sorry—thank you," he panted, about to buckle over on his knees.

Diantha looked up, meeting the eyes of the instructor, who was a tall and imposing man. His badge indicated the was from Beech High School, one of the largest schools attending.

"Glad you two were here to catch that," he said in a gruff voice.

Something about his whole demeanor put her on edge. "It's no problem," she assured him. "We just got all new marimbas and vibraphones, so I know how expensive these are." She might not have remembered the second instrument had she not just had a conversation about them with Melissa.

The student pulled the marimba back towards him, trying to put the keys back in their place. A stiff clip on his shoulder from the instructor stopped him. "We'll fix that when we get to the practice area." He looked to Diantha and Cynthia again. "Thank you again, but we need to get going. I'll be sure to pass along my thanks to Melissa."

As they made their leave, joining up with the other students who had waited behind, Diantha let out a sigh. She put a hand on Cynthia's arm, almost leaning into the other woman. "I don't even want to think about how this would have turned out had you not been here." She felt like she had just barely caught her breath.

Cynthia kept her eyes on the leaving group. The man's calm anger had unnerved her slightly. "I'm glad I was here, too," She said, returning her attention to her. "Again, are you okay?" She looked over the shorter woman. Neither of them were bleeding at the very least.

Diantha nodded, letting her hand slip off her arm. "Yes, that just…hurt more than I was prepared for. Might make for a fun bruise to look at later," she said, looking around for the folder she had dropped. It laid exactly where it had been dropped, and when they they returned to pick it up, everything was mostly in order. Only a light layer of gravel dust left any indication that something had happened.

Cynthia handed her the packet of pens that had landed away from it.

"Thank you," she said, adjusting everything back into her grip. "Well," she began awkwardly, "as I had planned to ask, how are you, Cynthia? It's good to see you."

Cynthia ran a hand through her hair, pushing her bangs back. "I was better before getting run over by a marimba, admittedly," she joked.

Diantha gave her a quick look-over. "I should ask, are you alright? I'm sorry to have dragged you into that."

She shrugged. "Like you said, it'll be an interesting bruise later. Besides, I'm the one who followed." She still wasn't quite sure why she did follow. Maybe it was a natural reaction to follow. Maybe it was the sheer terror on Diantha's face as she realized what was about to happen. Regardless, she was still thankful she had helped.

"Again, thank you, Cynthia."

Whether it was the soft look in her eyes, or the sincerity of her tone, Cynthia felt herself caught off guard by it.

The sun lingered above the horizon, leaving everything around them bathed in a golden glow. With the falling rays of the sun, a sense of calm fell over the two.

"It's no problem," Cynthia said, turning to face the stadium entrance. "So, you're working the competition I take it?" She asked, fishing for conversation as they began to walk towards the ticketing area. There were a few faces she recognized from when she helped out a few times, but nobody she could name.

"Yes, I'm the head band director's personal assistant this year, but it's more or less me running around getting forgotten things, and keeping the judges happy," she explained.

Cynthia said nothing in response, reaching for her wallet in her back pocket.

Diantha stepped ahead of her. "Put her as my guest, Marsha," She said to the woman at the ticket table. For a split second she was eternally greatful for name tags.

Cynthia was too distracted by the thought of _oh, that's her name_ , to dispute it.

The redheaded woman laughed to herself, grabbing for a spreadsheet from the back of a folder. "Finally using that, huh, Ann?"

Diantha gave a noncommittal shrug. "After a few years of helping out, I figured I should do that sometime." Up until nows he hadn't had anybody to use that for. Siebold never visited her until she had lengthy breaks, and all of her other friends were already helping the band out in other ways.

After having her sign the spot next to her name, Marsha then handed Cynthia a red wristband. "Alright, Cynthia, you're good to go. Enjoy the competition!" She felt a little bad that Marsha had remembered her name, but it took her until now to figure hers out.

"Thank you," Cynthia said as they began to walk towards the stands. "And thank you; you didn't have to do that," she said to Diantha as she fit the band around her wrist.

She glanced at her with a smile. "It's no problem." She looked to the field. A band was about to march on, so the entrance to the stands was about to be closed off for another ten minutes, give or take. Stopping away from the stands, she figured it would give them a few minuets to talk before she had to go back to her PA work. "Getting you in the competition is the least I can do for your help earlier. Though, Avery should have been given at least two passes into the competition…" If her memory served right. The band's funding had been good this year, so it seemed likely.

Cynthia laughed lightly, looking up to the stands to see if she could spot her niece. Kay had told her she was signed up to sell programs for part of the competition. "She probably forgot. Like her mother, she gets a little scattered now and then, and she's been…distracted lately." As she said it, she spotted her niece walking the rows with a stack of pamphlets in her hand.

Diantha followed her gaze, laughing along with her as Avery met up with her friend by the bottom row. "Distracted by a certain color guard girl, perhaps?"

"Definitely."

"It's precious, really. Back when she was in my class, they would always make a beeline for each other once class let out for lunch," she explained, falling into silence as the band began marching onto the field.

The rest of the crowd around them fell into quiet, giving the band their full attention.

With a wave of a hand, Diantha had Cynthia follow her to the fence that surrounded the field so they could watch the band. As they reached the fence, the announcer finished introducing them.

Leaning against the fence, with Diantha at her side, Cynthia found herself at ease. The pain in her stomach, that was definitely already beginning to bruise, was forgotten, and she allowed herself to focus on nothing but the poppy, fun intro of the band. She hadn't caught the name of the show, but the overall tune was pleasant enough.

The ease she was feeling became even more noticeable when the band moved on to their second movement, and the baritone soloist poured their heart out in their rendition of Nessun Dorma.

For a moment, Cynthia allowed herself to look at Diantha. It was still an odd feeling to be around her, but one she was slowly warming up to. The gentle smile on her face, combined with the glow of the falling sun left Cynthia feeling warm.

She wanted to tell herself that anything warm towards Diantha was unwelcome, but it was fighting a losing battle. The feeling was there, and the more she concentrated on it, the more prevalent it became.

Turning to look up at Cynthia, Diantha wanted to say something —having felt her eyes on her for the better half of the last minute— but refused to break the understood silence for a performing band. Instead, she merely held her gaze, taking in the image of her blonde hair illuminated in the afternoon glow.

Neither had noticed that the ballad had faded out, the crowd in the stands clapping for the end of the movement.

The sudden, intense brass, downbeat of the next movement startled Diantha enough to make her jump.

The two women laughed quietly over it, putting their attention back on the field. Both tried hard to not think about whatever had, or hand't, happened between them.

Soon enough the show came to an end, the crowd clapping for the performance. Diantha and Cynthia turned away from the field, intent on heading up the stands.

"Ann!"

Stopping, Diantha turned around, watching Augustine approach the two. He had been helping out with concessions, and by the looks of it, he was finally done for the day.

"Just one second," Diantha said to Cynthia. "Augustine!" She greeted.

He smiled brightly at the two women. "Afternoon!" He gave his attention to Cynthia. Diantha hand't realized that she was taller than him. "You must be Ann's friend! I'm Augustine!" He introduced, extending a hand.

She took it, giving a firm shake. "Cynthia."

"Augustine here is also originally from Wisteria. He teaches science just down the hall from me," she briefly explained.

He nodded. "Yeah, it's a pretty small world we've got going on." He gave Diantha his attention. "I'll be quick, you got a minute?" He asked.

She was quick to respond. "I have to run this up to Melissa," she said, patting the folder in her hand. "If you'll let me run this, I'll be back down in a few minutes."

"Sure thing! Take your time." He looked up to Cynthia. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Cynthia."

She responded with a quick, "Likewise" before heading up the stands with Diantha. "So," she began. "I take it he knows?" She asked, leaving it open-ended so nobody around them might understand.

She nodded. "Yes. He knows." He knew just about everything regarding who she used to be.

"And so I'm not wrong in getting the feeling that he already knew who I was?" She followed up.

Diantha laughed to herself. "Oh, he knows precisely who you are." Referring to them being exes. "I don't know who he was trying to fool."

Walking together a bit longer, they found Kay sitting at the end of the row that lead up to the press-box. Avery stood by, talking to her, her face red from embarrassment.

"No, no!" Kay said, amused. "Lean down here, let me look at that."

"Mom," she grumbled, dragging it out.

Cynthia was already just as amused as her sister was.

Getting closer, she saw the bright red kiss mark on her niece's cheek. She only needed one guess as to who it was from.

"It-It doesn't mean anything! It's just a thing the guard girls do, mom! Maggie said so herself!"

Cynthia held back a laugh, approaching them. "So, it _was_ from Maggie, huh?" She teased, making her jump.

"Oh, god, not you, too," she grumbled, hiding her face behind a small stack of programs. "Hi, aunt Cindy."

The second Kay noticed Diantha, her amusement dropped. "Oh, hey," she said, forcing herself to keep her tone even.

"Hello, Kay. I'm glad to see you're doing better," She said, picking her words carefully. She stood by carefully, as to not block the stairs, and tried too hard not to be visibly shocked by her appearance. She was only nineteen when she had left, and in her early twenties the last time she saw her. From what she remembered of pictures, she looked a lot like her and Cynthia's mother now.

Kay put a hand up, refusing to keep eye contact. They were in public, so she had to keep things under control. "Look, thanks, but I'll be real with you, uh, Ann. I'm still not mentally prepared to like…see you again. I want to keep things civil, though," she explained, feeling her sister's disapproving stare.

Although she found herself hurt by the words, Diantha merely nodded, not willing to make anything of it. "Fair enough. I hope you enjoy the rest of the competition." She then looked to Cynthia, one foot on the next step up. "I'll —my offer from before still stands. If you ever want to get coffee, or anything, you have my number. I'll see you around." Without looking back, she began to make her way to the press-box. With it being towards the end of the competition, she was hoping more than ever that she would be done for the day.

"Want a program, Aunt Cindy?" Avery asked, hoping it would dissolve any tension. She figured she wasn't supposed to hear anything Diantha had said, so she opted to move ahead.

Cynthia shook her head lightly, but said "I would love one."

Handing her the three dollars, they said goodbye to her, so she could continue walking around the stands selling more before it was time for her to meet up with the rest of the band for the host performance.

"Why do you have to be like that?" Cynthia asked as she sat next to her sister.

Kay shrugged, looking up from her program. "What? Were you actually enjoying hanging out with her?"

"Kinda?" Cynthia answered. She thought about telling her what had happened in the parking lot, but decided against it. She would talk about it once she had thoroughly processed it.

Kay looked at her, surprised. "I'm just being honest with her, okay? And you, too, I guess. I'm not ready to see her again."

Cynthia said nothing in response. Instead, she grabbed her phone, looking at the time, then at the program's schedule. They had just hit a fifteen minute intermission, afterwards was Fairweather High School, followed by Beech.

After sitting in silence, listening to the rustling and conversation around them, it wasn't long until Diantha came back down the stands.

A twinge of guilt shot though Cynthia as she passed without making eye contact.

With a sigh, she found herself rising to her feet. "I'll be right back," Cynthia said.

Kay only responded by rolling her eyes.

In only a few strides she had caught up with her. "Hey, Di— _Ann_."

Diantha forced a laugh. "It's best to call me that while on school grounds," she said, not stopping, and not looking up at her.

Cynthia walked with her to the end of the stands, getting her to stop just before the stairs. Not far away she could see Augustine waiting on Diantha. "Hey, look…I'm sorry about Kay. She's just…"

Diantha shrugged. "She's your sister, and she's protective of you. I understand. There's no need for any apologies, Cynthia."

Cynthia didn't see it that way, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. "So…coffee sometime?" She ventured.

That got her attention. "You have my number," she reminded.

"Right…well, I guess I'll see you later." With that, she took her leave, too unsure of what to say. When she had gotten up to follow her, she didn't have a plan, and it was evident. It seemed to be the theme of her day.

Diantha's eyes lingered on Cynthia for a few more seconds. With a hard blink and frustration sitting low in her stomach, she forced herself to think about something other than a botched conversation. Like Augustine, who was still waiting patiently by the entrance.

"Ann!" He greeted again.

His enthusiasm was infectious enough to take her mind off things. "So, my dear Augustine. What did you want to talk about?"

He smiled. "I've been thinking about how you and I never have dinner anymore. Why don't you come over tomorrow, and I'll make us dinner," he offered.

She laughed, finding herself stepping forward, as if to keep their conversation to themselves. It was unlikely anybody would be listening in, but that didn't stop her. "This is not a conversation we should be having on school grounds," she joked.

He rolled his eyes, in a good-natured way. "We can grade papers."

"I purposely never assign homework on competition weekends. You know this, Augustine. Besides…" she noted that he leaned closer to her, leaving little space between them. Still enough to where an outsider might think they were only standing close because the crowd around them was loud and they needed to hear one another, but Diantha was fully aware that it was closer than she wold normally allow him. This was far closer than her usual arms-length.

She didn't want to think too hard about why she was suddenly letting him in.

"Besides?" He echoed, looking down at her.

She laughed to herself. "Sounds a bit like a double meaning, don't you think, Augustine?" The words alone left a small hint of color on his cheeks, and the repeated use of his name, she could tell, was getting to him.

He stepped back. "Come on, Ann, you know me."

"Unfortunately I do," She jabbed, taking a second to glance at her phone for the time. "Actually, if you would like, Melissa told me I'm done for the day, so we could go get something now if you wanted," she offered.

He laughed lightly. "Admittedly, there isn't anywhere I can think of that is open right now that wouldn't feel like a cheap date." He had picked that wording on purpose.

She laughed turn. "I haven't really eaten since breakfast this morning, so I'm not picky in the least right now."

Despite knowing exactly how the night was going to go, she let him lead the way…

* * *

Early morning rays filtered into the room, waking Diantha far earlier than she would have liked on a Sunday morning. For a few seconds, if even that, she struggled to remember where she was. The duvet that weighed heavily over her didn't belong to her, and the sheets weren't the color she was expecting. However, it was the sound of breathing that cleared all the confusion.

Memories of a cheap dinner, distracted flirting, and accepting an invitation back to Augustine's house sat at the front of her mind. And while being in his house was nothing new, it was the activities that followed that were.

Carefully she slid out from the covers, finding herself wearing nothing but a tank top and a pair of shorts that didn't belong to her. She told herself that she would worry about where the rest of her clothes had ended up after she got something to drink.

The entire way to the kitchen, she chastised herself. While everything in the moment might have been a good idea, now in hindsight, she found herself regretting most of it. Even as well as she knew Augustine, she prayed this wouldn't make things too uncomfortable at work.

She had been to his home enough times to have a general idea of where things were at. Finding a glass, she filled it up with water, and stood by the sink, staring out the window. His home was in an older section of town, the large oak tree in the front starting to show the first signs of changing colors for fall.

The stillness of the house might have bothered her, but she instead allowed herself to find peace in it.

The peace was interrupted when she heard the door to Augustine's room open, followed by footsteps. The closer they drew towards the kitchen, the stronger sense of dread crept into her stomach.

Setting her glass down in the sink, she turned in time for Augustine to enter the small kitchen, resolved to be upfront about how she was feeling.

"Morning, Diantha," He said, stretching his arms out with a loud pop.

The sound momentarily distracted her as she was unable to suppress her visceral reaction. It was dramatic enough to get a laugh from Augustine.

"I know my body is forty going on ninety, but you don't need to be that dramatic about it."

She couldn't help but laugh in response, leaning back against the sink counter. "I think you're just hoping I'll disagree and compliment you." Against her better judgement, she gave him a thorough look over. "Which, unfortunately, I guess I'm inclined to do. I wouldn't have come within even fifty feet of your bedroom if you looked that age."

He laughed, far more genuinely this time, but before he could continue, she interrupted him. "Actually, look, I just want to be completely honest with you this morning, Augustine."

"Alright," he responded, allowing her to continue.

"It's not necessarily that I regret everything last night. Admittedly, that was… _very_ nice, but I'm not…I don't want to make anything of this."

When he shrugged in a noncommittal way, it took her by surprise. She half-expected him to be very upset. It wasn't as if she had ever been oblivious of his affections towards her.

"I can't say that I wasn't expecting this. I mean, I didn't expect you to actually take me up on dinner last night." he amended. "But you not wanting a relationship with me, I've kind of figured."

She felt a bit amused. "And you pursued me nonetheless?"

His shoulders rose again in a shrug. "First and foremost, Diantha, you're my friend, but you're also very fun to flirt with."  
She felt warmth on her face, and she wanted to derail from the feeling. "What do you mean by you didn't expect me to have dinner with you? We go out pretty often, when it's not a busy time of the year."

He remained quiet for a moment, seeming to think hard about he was going to say. The anticipation was getting to her. "If we're being honest this morning…I…" He leaned against the counter, rubbing his neck in thought. "I thought I lost out to Cynthia."

Again, she was taken by surprise. "Cynthia?"

"Well, I saw you two come into the competition together, and then you watched that performance together. It jus—"

"Oh, so, the second I stand by a woman I'm suddenly involved with her?" She asked a little more harsh than she intended to.

He put his hands up in defense. "Look, hear me out Diantha: It's Cynthia we're talking about, not some random woman. Regardless of how long you two hadn't seen one another, you do have history. Plus, you've been pretty…I don't know if spaced out is what I'm looking for. Distracted, maybe? Ever since that coffee date you had with her. It's subtle, but I've picked up on it."

She took a deep breath, ending with a long sigh. "I haven't even had time to really process how that went, and then whatever happened yesterday with the runaway marimba…I don't know. I don't want to risk making too much out of any of it with how closed off from me she still is."  
"I can't tell you how to process whatever you two talked about, but, as your friend, I would say you should probably take some time to think about everything while we're on break these next two weeks."

That she couldn't disagree with, so she said nothing, allowing quiet to fall over them. Every little sound was amplified in the small kitchen. A shifting of feet. The small patters of leaves falling on the window.

"Do you want breakfast?" He offered.

She couldn't resist a smile. Truth be told, she was famished, but more than that she wanted to be in her own home, in her own clothes. "You're very sweet, Augustine, but I think I just want to head home."

"Fair enough."

She walked past him, heading back for his room to change back into her clothes from yesterday. Figuring she wasn't supposed to hear it, she ignored the heavy sigh and whisper of a curse from back towards the kitchen.

Quickly putting her own clothes back on, only pausing to take notice of the bruise across her stomach, she suppressed the gross feeling of not wearing clean clothes. She would debate on whether to shower or eat first when she got home.

Walking out of his room, he met her by the entryway. She walked up to him, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Thank you for being so understanding, Augustine."

He shrugged, giving her a smile. "You don't have to thank me, Diantha. Like I said, I still value you as a friend. This doesn't have to change anything unless you want it to, but-" he stepped away "-I do think you should really ask yourself what _you_ want. Not just what you want in the moment, either. What do you _really_ want, Diantha?"

She crossed her hands at her front. "It probably has more to do with me convincing myself to not be afraid of whatever that answer might be." Getting herself to even acknowledge it felt like half the battle.

He laughed lightly. "Sounds to me like you already know the general direction of that answer." He paused to give her one last look-over. "But regardless, if I see you during any of the break meetings, great, but if not, I'll see you after break."

She gave a quick nod, turning to head out the door, her purse sitting right where she had dropped it the night before.

Before she could leave, he called out to her one more time. "Oh! Am I still allowed to bring you coffee, or is that too much?"

She found herself laughing. With a look over her shoulder, she said, "I'd be offended if you didn't." She left out the _dear Augustine_ , thinking it wasn't time for that endearment again.

She dug around her purse for her keys after closing the door behind her. The air around her was cooler than it had been in months, reminding her more of a typical Wisterian summer. As she got to her car, she looked for her phone, checking to see if there was still any charge on the battery.

There was, along with a message from a number she didn't have registered. However, she only needed to read the contents to figure out who it was from.

" _Hey, I just wanted to apologize again for Kay last night. I would say she's bad at handling these kinds of things, but I'm honestly no better. So…sorry."_

Before she could even type a letter of a response, another message popped up.

 _"Also, still up for coffee sometime?"_

A smile worked its way on her face.

With quick fingers, she typed out her reply, and hit send before putting her phone back in her purse.

 _"Honestly, I'm not holding any of it against her, or you for the matter. Coffee sounds lovely. When were you thinking?"_

Thinking on Augustine's question to her, the only answer she could think of was that what she wanted most was to see Cynthia at least once during fall break…


	11. Begin Again

Chapter Eleven

Begin Again

Unlike the last time, the cafe around Diantha was quiet. The location was likely the cause, along with it being a Wednesday afternoon. Instead of Crema, the two had agreed to meet at a coffee shop that was closer to the middle of them. Everett was a lovely town, in Diantha's opinion. Had she not got the job at Easton High School, she would have considered the area.

Soft piano music played over the speakers. With a book on her phone to keep herself busy, a fresh blueberry scone, and a hot coffee, all that was missing was Cynthia. Though, if she thought about it all too hard, she would find a nervous shake in her hands.

Their last coffee date hadn't gone over well. She could only hope that this one wouldn't go the same way. Thankfully, there weren't many painful conversations they were likely to have.

Fifteen minutes after their agreed meeting time, Diantha looked to the clock on her phone, worry crossing her features. It wasn't like her to ever be late to something.

With no message, she tapped the home button to return to her book, only to then see Cynthia walk in the door. She looked around for a second before spotting Diantha.

"So sorry I'm late," She apologized as she stopped by the table.

"You had me worried for a second. Is it a new thing for you to be late?" She teased.

Cynthia breathed a laugh. "Hardly. I'll explain after I get my coffee."

Watching her leave, Diantha noted tension in her shoulders. She hoped the drive over hadn't been too stressful.

Finishing the last few lines of the page she was on, she then hit the power button, placing it on the chair next to her.

Cynthia returned with a coffee in hand, taking her seat across from Diantha. Setting the drink down, she folded her hands atop the table and took a deep breath.

Diantha sat back, almost amused; and not just about her whole demeanor. There was a part of her that still found it amusing to see her without most of her face covered by her bangs.

"So, again, I'm sorry for being late, however," she began, now talking with her hands. "I just want it to known that I was actually here before you. I've just been stuck on a phone call for the last thirty minutes," she explained.

"Oh my goodness, what for? If you don't mind me asking," She amended.

She took a ship of her drink before answering. It was not nearly as hot as she thought it was going to be. "The director of the Oakridge museum loves to regularly harass me by reminding me that he has the exhibit I'm dying to get my hands on."

"Oh dear. Sounds like an absolute charmer," she commented, sipping her own drink. It was still too warm.

She just shook her head, running a hand through her hair. "He drives me insane."

Diantha leaned back in her seat. "So, was it just thirty minutes of him gloating, or…?" She hoped for Cynthia's sake not. Though, being unfamiliar with the field, she wondered what two curators could possibly talk about for half an hour.

"It was partially that, but then it was him trying to get me to take back the bees."

Whether she meant to or not, the way she had said 'the bees' left Diantha laughing. "The bees?" She said in a question.

"The bees," She confirmed. "It was an exhibit we borrowed about…five years ago, I think? It was a really neat exhibit, but it took way too much work to setup, and the staff that comes with it…I just…don't want to deal with again."

Despite the years apart from one another, judging her body language and tone, Diantha only needed one guess as to why she didn't want to deal with them. "I take it they're an ex?" She guessed, trying to refrain from looking too amused.

At least she wasn't the only ex on thin ice.

She nodded, almost reluctantly. This was starting to feel like an odd conversation to have with Diantha of all people, but she decided to put it aside. While the nonsense with the bees may involve an ex, the whole situation was at least amusing enough in hindsight.

"Probably sad to say that she's the most recent person I've dated, and that was, yeah, over three years ago."

Diantha shrugged. "Cynthia, I am in no position to judge." It had only been a few days since she slept with Augustine, after all. Not dating in a few years wasn't even something to be ashamed of in her mind.

"But, anyways," She said, leaning back in her seat. "It was around the time when Steven first took over as owner, and he and I were determined to get rid of all the old exhibits. Like…Diantha, most of the exhibits in that place were over fifty years old. It was awful."

She put a hand over her mouth. "Goodness."

Cynthia began to talk with her hands once again, amusing Diantha. "It's taking every ounce of restraint I have to not sidetrack on how much I hated the old body-quest exhibit."

"The what now?" She was beginning to get the feeling that she could listen to Cynthia talk about everything in the museum. While it wasn't something she might have normally been interested in hearing about, she had forgotten how easily Cynthia could capture her attention.

She took a long sip of her drink, then sat it down with a distinct sense of purpose. "It wasn't the exhibit as a whole I hated. It was the stupid heart." She didn't look Diantha in the eye, not wanting her to see how much the memory of it all could work her up. "We had this big fake heart. Kids could crawl through it, and it would simulate a heart attack about every forty-five minutes by shaking and lights on the interior going off. It was just the worst. It was old, it was gross, and I hated cleaning it more than anything."

Diantha was grinning at that point. "Didn't enjoy squeezing your—let's see if I remember— six-foot-two self into something so small?"

She gave her a pointed, but still amused, look. "I'm glad you remember. The heart actually came apart, in case a kid got suck or started getting claustrophobic, so no. Thankfully I never had to do that. It's just that taking apart the damn thing was a chore, and no matter how much cleaning agent I used, it just never got clean enough. It always felt like it had this gross film on it." She visibly shuddered for effect, to which Diantha laughed.

"I'm sorry to have brought up such a painful memory for you." Her grin betrayed her words. "I'm almost afraid to ask about the bees, now." That was a lie. She was dying to know about the bees.

She watched Diantha take a bit of her scone. "You know…if I had to compare them, talking about the bees is just a little more embarrassing, whereas body-quest was just annoying. So, like I was saying, as part of getting rid of old exhibits, we have a huge wave of visiting exhibits until we could get our hands on things permanently. The bees was one of our longer visitors."

"And came with an attractive person, I assume," she teased.

She laughed lightly. "I mean, yeah. Cheryl was stunning, and she loved to distract me. I couldn't give a single tour without her trying to distract me when we got towards the bees. There were more than enough times when I would just lose my train of thought thanks to her. It was incredibly embarrassing."

Diantha could only laugh in turn, having a perfect mental image of it all. After all, she had been guilty of doing the same to Cynthia many years ago. If memory served right, all she ever had to do was bat her eyes a little too purposefully at her and Cynthia would all but short-circuit. Though, she at least had refrained from distracting her in such ways when they were around other people.

"I do feel bad that she would interrupt your work, but I also find that terribly amusing."

She sipped her coffee. "For two years she found it amusing, and I just…put up with it." In hindsight, she wasn't sure why she did. "But when the bees finally left, she went with them, and we just drifted apart. She was a free spirit, and I realized my attraction to her stemmed from the fact that I saw her five to six days a week."

"I know how that goes." Admittedly, that was likely where her attraction to Augustine came from. Sure, he was at least a good friend, but the physical attraction came from spending so much time together.

"So, listening to Mitchell insist on us taking the bees back in the spring was not fun. Especially combined with him gloating about having the exhibit I want." She rolled her eyes, before refocusing on Diantha.

She had been so worked up over her conversation with Mitchell she had failed to really take Diantha's whole visage. She seemed to be favoring pink for their coffee dates.

"What exhibit is it?" Diantha asked as a followup.

"Oh, right." That might have helped. "Really, it's pointless until we get more space, but it's this really neat archaeological dig replica. It's a ton of work to set up and maintain. Once everything has been 'excavated' it then has to be refilled in, and —yeah. It would be a lot of work, but it would be amazing to have."

"That does sound fascinating." Though, without being familiar with the museum, it left her confused on the scale of things. At the very least, it wasn't something that mattered all that much, and could be left to curiosity and nothing more.

"Random question," Cynthia followed up, figuring it was best to get away from the topic of the bees. "While I'm flattered you remember my height, do you remember my middle name?"

She was well aware she just wanted to change subjects. "Cynthia Elizabeth Jenness, who do you take me for?" She asked in mock offense.

Cynthia leaned back with laughter. "Right, right. You never forget people's middle names."

"No, I never forget a person's 'little' name after they tell me," she said with a small grin. Hopefully Cynthia would catch her reference.

Cynthia paused for a second, but before she could ask for clarification, the memory came back to her. "I forgot that's what Avery used to call middle names." The memory of how small her niece used to be tugged at her heart.

"That one stuck with me, though, I'm sure it helps that she used to ask me what my 'little name' was about ten times a day." If not more.

The remembrance melded into laughter as she leaned forward. "She only asked you ten times a day because you would answer ten times a day."

It got a laugh from Diantha. "Maybe so, but I couldn't resist! It was too cute the way she would ask." She paused for a moment, placing her arms on the table to lean forward. Her voice was much softer now. "While I understand the passage of time perfectly, it's so incredible to me that she's sixteen now. Anytime I see her it just amazes me. I mean, the last time I had seen her, she was three and still spoke mostly broken sentences. Despite everything stacked against her, Kay did a wonderful job raising her."

Cynthia nodded, resting her head in her palm. "Yeah. Avery has a lot of anxiety, but I do believe Kay has done the best she can all things considered. I am sad I missed out on so much of it, though. Kay and I stopped talking when Avery was five or six, and I didn't see them again until she was fifteen."

"Oh my." She remembered that Cynthia had mentioned not talking to Kay for a long time. She didn't realize she meant ten years. "I…" She wasn't sure what to say. "Cynthia, I am so very glad for you that they're back in your life."

She leaned back again, crossing her arms. "Me too, but okay. What about you? You still talk to anyone from Wisteria?"

She laughed a bit, looking off to the side. "Oh, no—I mean, I still talk to Siebold of course. He's married now, and I just adore his husband, and his husband's brothers. Apart from them, I speak with my father, and that's it. I basically left everything behind."

Cynthia found herself surprised by the answer. "No longer talk to your mother?"

She shook her head. "No. She and my father divorced, and I haven't spoken to her in over six years now. Just before I divorced Mel —without going into too much detail since it's a bit of a heavy story— I told her and Kathi Lee to fuck off and stay out of my life. All in the same breath." She noted the look of surprise on her face.

She tried her hardest to refrain from laughing, but more than anything she wished she could have been there for that conversation. "Diantha, I am so proud of you."

A smile worked its way on her face. "Are you now?"

"While I've inferred you at least ditched Kathi Lee, I never in my wildest dreams would have imaged you telling her to fuck off. Much less your own mother." They were both a piece of work, and _damn_ did she wish she could have at least seen the looks on their faces.

Diantha's shoulders rose in a shrug. "It was already the worst time in my life. I just reasoned nothing could make it worse than it already was. So, I said my piece, stormed out, and ran away out here within the month."

Cynthia gave her a sympathetic nod. "We both had a few rough years after we split, didn't we?"

While she agreed, the phrasing didn't sit right with Diantha. "Actually, this is probably worth mentioning now I guess." It had been something she thought of while mentally going over their last conversation. "I feel as though I owe you an apology." Cynthia looked at her, confused. "I set the tone for that phrasing last time. I said things like 'we split', but when we both know it was me who left. I want to take responsibility for that."

Save the faint sounds of the cafe around them, they fell into silence. Diantha worried that the apology had been too much, or that maybe Cynthia hadn't even thought much of the phrasing.

However, to her surprise, Cynthia uncrossed her arms, and gave a bit of a shrug.

"I accept your apology, Diantha, but…I don't want you to think you were entirely at fault for our relationship ending." It wasn't something she wanted to admit, but she couldn't deny it.

Diantha gave a nervous laugh. "I would say I did a pretty good job of being the one to wreck things."

She shook her head. "Diantha, I recognized well in advance something was wrong. I'm talking at least six months, in advance, if not longer. I just never said anything, and that was a big component of us falling apart. If I had said something?" She shrugged again. "If I had at least acknowledged I knew something was wrong? Who knows where we would be right now."

"Who knows indeed." She took a sip of her drink before adding, "Probably would have at least seen that silly ring I got you."

It sparked a memory. "Which reminds me!" She began a little too eagerly. She forced herself to lean back in her seat. "I asked Kay about the whole her stopping you from seeing me after grandma passed because I wanted to know her reasoning. She said something like 'Because her showing up out of nowhere with that _ugly-ass rock_ on her hand would have made you feel so much better'." Diantha laughed, covering her mouth. At least the tension of the previous topic was gone. "I know this is off topic, but I need to know, Diantha. Kay said it like the image of it was burned in the back of her mind."

She continued laughing, leaning herself forward again, this time an amused grin on her face. "Darling, it's burned on the back of my eyelids! Kay was not exaggerating in any way! It was hideous! Absolutely hideous!" She held her hand out a bit. "Every day I am thankful I don't have to try to accessorize with that ugly thing anymore!"

"How bad?" She asked between laughs.

She brought her other hand up, making a circle with her fingers to try to gauge the size. Roughly a twenty-five cent piece. "I would always stand on his right side, that way I could put my hand behind him, hiding the ring. Otherwise I would always cover it with my other hand."

"No," Cynthia said in full disbelief.

"Yes," She answered, bringing her hands back to her person. "You know, I think I was actually within seconds of puling the damn thing off my hand before Kay opened the door. I didn't want anyone seeing it, but…well…" She shrugged, still afflicted with giggles.

"A diamond?"

She nodded. "A gross display of wealth is what it was." She shook her head again, looking down at her left hand. "Golden band, white diamond." She made a face of disgust. "I would say I don't know what he was thinking, but it was more like a clear indication that he didn't know me at all."

Cynthia couldn't resist. "Out of curiosity, the engagement ring you picked out…?"

She laughed, more shy this time. "In hindsight, it was tacky as hell, but…I'm confident even now you would have liked it back then. I can't say it would be in your taste now, but, at the time, yes. It _was_ Steven approved."

That didn't leave Cynthia confident. "You trusted Steven, a fashion disaster, to pick a ring I would like?" The day just kept getting better.

She rolled her eyes. "He wasn't _that_ much of a disaster. He was like you and tended to only wear one color."

"Exactly. I don't know what you were thinking. I mean, I'm pretty positive his husband, Wallace, basically dresses him now." It was a bit of an exaggeration, but not far off the mark. Since they had gotten together his sense of fashion expanded, at the very least.

Diantha looked down at the remainder of her scone. It was long cold by now, and no longer appealing with the anxiety that was working its way into her stomach. "It was an obsidian ring with a gold interlay. If I'm being embarrassingly honest, I think the set is probably somewhere up in my attic, sitting in a box I told myself I would go through one day."

Cynthia looked at her. "An obsidian _—Diantha Ann Ruston_." She then broke into laughter, covering her mouth to not cause a scene.

Diantha felt no need to correct her on her last name. "What?" She asked, feeling her face get a little warm.

"I'm sorry —I'm laughing because, yeah, you _did_ know me. You knew me so fucking well, and that's what's so funny to me," she said between laughs. She forced herself to stop laughing, but it hurt to hold in.

Diantha, on the other hand, while still embarrassed, was unable to tear her eyes away from Cynthia's smile. She'd gladly relive an embarrassing ring story if it means she got to see it.

"I can't believe you would have worn a black ring for the rest of your life because of me." There was a part of her that was oddly touched. It was easier to focus on than the part of her that knew she would have also gladly worn the ring at the time.

She shrugged. "Apart from talking, apparently, there was a lot I was willing to do for you at the time, Cynthia."

Laughing over the black ring some more, they moved onto other conversation as they finished their drinks.

By the time Cynthia had taken her last sip, they both were coming to the conclusion that they weren't ready for the coffee date to be over. But with nothing else planned for the day, neither was sure what to do.

Diantha briefly looked at her phone on the chair next to her for the time. "Well, Cynthia, I'm tired of sitting here, but I don't know that I'm ready to say goodbye to you just yet. Would you want to take a walk around the square? It's a nice day." It was the only thing she could come up with on the spot.

Thankfully, Cynthia was on board. "I'd like that."

They spent another hour together, wandering around the city square of Everett. During the walk, even though she was laughing in response to something Diantha had said, Cynthia realized there was something more defeated in the notion.

She watched Diantha point out something in a store front, leading her into a story from teaching. As she spoke, Cynthia realized she was catching herself about to unconsciously put a hand on her in some way. She moved as if she were going to put a hand on her back while they continued down the street, but stopped herself.

Instead, she nodded along, forcing her hands into her jacket pockets.

Not long ago she hadn't wanted any of this. She hadn't wanted to be around Diantha, laughing along with her, and much less enjoying the way it was all making her feel. But she couldn't fight the truth any longer.

Not when the truth looked up at her with those blue eyes that just seemed to shimmer as she looked to her for a response. Not when the truth laughed in a honeyed way she had forgotten she adored.

The truth was she wanted more Wednesday's in cafes with her.

Walking Diantha to her car, they stood beside it for a moment.

Cynthia spoke first. "You're on break this week and next, right?"

"Correct," she said, keeping a loose hold of the keys in her peacoat pockets.

"Want to see each other again? We don't have to get coffee for a third time," she suggested.

Diantha smiled. "I was about to suggest the same thing, Cynthia." She almost added her endearment, but something kept her from saying it just yet.

"I'm off Friday if you want to get dinner out here." She looked around casually. "It seems like there's plenty to choose from."

She wanted to say yes, but the word was trapped within her. Instead, she gave a small laugh, looking away from Cynthia. "I'm sorry, it's just…" she trailed off.

It worried Cynthia. She was suddenly unsure if Diantha was as into the day as she was. "Too much?" She asked.

Diantha shook her head. "No, no, Cynthia. It's just…" She looked her in the eyes, taking in the image for just a selfish second. "I just want to…commit the look your giving me to memory." As she said it, her expression changed to confusion.

"What do you mean?" It was an odd compliment at best.

She shrugged, pulling her keys out of her pocket. "When I think about the look you first gave me when we saw each other for the first time after so long…it's hard to imagine that we would ever be this friendly again."

She took a causal step forward. "I…yeah, I'm sorry about that."

She shook her head again, catching herself stepping closer as well. "I don't hold it against you, Cynthia. Neither of us were expecting to see one another, and after everything that had happened, well, I wouldn't have been too happy to see me either."

Without fully thinking everything she was going to say though, she responded. "If it means anything, I'm at least happy to be seeing you now." She ignored the feeling in her chest of her heart skipping a beat when Diantha smiled at her again.

"It means more than you will ever know, Cynthia." Again, the temptation to add the endearment was strong, but she refrained.

"So…see you again sometime?"

Diantha held her gaze for a few more seconds before stepping to half-face her car. "I'll call you."

With a quick goodbye, Cynthia walked away, suddenly unsure of where she had even parked her car in the first place.

Diantha sat in her car for a moment, staring at the steering wheel.

Both women found themselves stuck on the exact same thought.

 _"What just happened?"_

* * *

Tugging at her red scarf, Avery was regretting the decision to even wear it. Every muscle in her body was anxious, leaving no room for cold despite the temperature around them.

She had been looking forward to her trip with Maggie up to Lake Paige since she brought it up after the competition, but now that they were there, almost a week later, she found herself unable to say or do much of anything. All the mental prep she had done was as good as worthless.

"You sure you're warm enough?" Maggie asked her as they walked the trail around the lake. Brightly colored leaves would fall from the trees now and then, and the leaf-covered trail crunched below them.

She nodded, struggling to find her voice. "Yeah! I'm fine, I'm just…I'm fine." She might have slapped her own face out of embarrassment had she been alone.

Maggie laughed lightly, putting her arm through hers. "Here, I'll keep you warm."

While she may have been internally screaming at that point, it only worsened the heat surrounding her.

"I'm so glad I got to bring you here! It's one of my absolute favorite places," Maggie began. She had been working her hardest to keep conversation going all day.

"Really?" Avery asked, looking at her shorter friend.

They had walked into a patch of sun, letting her really take notice of the freckles on her tanned face.

She went on some lengthy story about spending her summers at the lake with her family. Every detail Avery committed to memory, enjoying taking everything in as Maggie saw it. Eventually, her voice found her, allowing her to say more than a few words at a time.

"So, you're probably going to stay at Easton, right?" She asked.

Avery nodded, adjusting her glasses as she spoke with her free hand. "Oh, yeah, definitely. I don't want to move schools, at least. My mom hasn't said anything about moving again, so you'll probably have to put up with me for at least another year before you graduate." She had almost forgotten about potentially leaving. With things working out so well with her mother's job, the possibility was practically nonexistent.

She was about to say something in response, but stopped short. "Oh, oh! Up here!" She said, taking her arm back so she could pull Avery along with her. The trail grew steeper, eventually leading them to a small overlook. The sight of the valley out in front of them nearly stole Avery's breath.

The vibrant shades of red and yellow became more apparent than ever. It was amazing to see just how different an hour north could be. Easton's fall colors weren't nearly as noticeable. The wind moved across Lake Paige below them, rippling the water, and carrying with it the distant sound of people talking.

Unconsciously, she tightened her grip on Maggie's hand. "Oh, wow," was all she could manage.

Maggie pulled her forward, up to the stone wall the lined the outlook. Together, they sat on the wall, taking in the scenery around them, talking about how the marching season had been. Both brought up favorite marching shows they had seen throughout the season, and talked about areas where they hoped their sections would improve for the following year. All while never letting go of the other's hand.

A natural silence fell over their conversation. Avery looked to her side, gazing out over the lake again, and Maggie just watched as the wind blew her blonde hair around. "Hey, Avery," She said, waiting for her attention. Once she had it, she continued. "Can I ask you—" she trailed off. Voices of people about to walk by distracted her, making her lose her nerve.

She looked over for a quick glance of who was interrupting their conversation, Avery following her eyes. Both girls fell silent again as they watched the other women pass.

They were too absorbed in their conversation with one another to even notice them, for which Avery was most thankful.

Maggie leaned in closer, making Avery hyperaware of how closer her face was to hers. "Okay, hold that thought, wasn't that Mrs. Gardner? And Elesa?"

"Definitely was Mrs. Gardner. Don't know the other lady though," she admitted.

"Oh, right! Elesa went to our school, she graduated with my sister, and she's a model now! Morgan always makes sure to grab magazines with her in them," she explained.

Avery felt it odd to be seeing her in a non-school setting.

Having completely lost her nerve for her previous question, Maggie moved on to a different one she had. One that had been bugging her for a good while now. "You know," she continued, resting her shoulder against Avery's. "I know you already said you were moved to Mr. Morrison's because your aunt knew her, but…" she trailed off.

"But…?" Avery echoed, resisting the urge to tug at her scarf. By this point she was sure her anxiety was going to overheat her by the end of the day.

"Well, I've just been wondering if there was…more to the story."

Avery took a deep breath, putting more of her weight against Maggie, and debating on whether or not to actually tell her. Keeping the absurdity of the situation all to herself had been eating at her ever since sitting in the car with her aunt that night. "I…what makes you think there's more? I mean, like I said, Mrs. Gardner and my aunt knew each other from when we lived in Wevok, way back when I was, like, three. She didn't want to risk the accusation of grading bias, or whatever."

Maggie shrugged, pulling herself away from Avery so she could stand in front of her. It wasn't often she got to be taller than her. "If you say so," she said.

Avery shifted in her spot, temptation eating at her. "You're giving me a look," she observed.

The grin on her face was going to be Avery's undoing.

"It's just that you're all anxious talking about it, like you're hiding something," She observed, putting her hands in her pockets.

She tried to laugh it off, looking away from the other girl. "You know I'm a nervous wreck all the time." It wasn't an untrue statement anyways.

Maggie giggled. "Yeah, but…I don't know! It's different." She paused for a second, reconsidering her approach. She figured she was coming off too strong. "I mean, I don't want to, like, force you to talk or anything. I'm just telling you what I'm thinking."

Crossing her arms, Avery looked back to the lake for a second. "Can you keep a secret?" Surely she could. She figured there couldn't be any harm in telling just one person. Especially if that person was Maggie.

"For you? Of course!"

She looked back up at her. "I'm serious, Margaret. You gotta keep it a secret."

She laughed lightly, stepping closer towards her. "Oh, breaking out my real name. Must be good," she teased.

Avery forced down the fluttery feeling in her chest as Maggie tapped her nose. A habit she secretly couldn't get enough of. "Mrs. Gardner is my aunt's ex girlfriend, and my mom told me she's pretty sure they were going to get married, but she ran off with some guy. I'm assuming whoever Mr. Gardner is."

She was quick with a followup. "Was she really an actress? Because that's, like…the number one rumor with her." She had the desire to grab her hands again, to express her excitement. And because she regretted letting go in the first place.

She nodded. "I've never asked too much about it, but yeah. She was in movies back in Wisteria. Her actual name is Diantha." If anything would get her in trouble, it would probably be revealing that information, but the desire to share something so secret with Maggie outweighed rationality.

Maggie was silent for a moment, seeming to take in everything Avery and said.

Avery wondered if she had said too much, or maybe even not enough. "I know it's not this huge, discovery or anything. It was mostly my aunt who didn't want me—"

"Are you kidding?" She cut off, "I'm so happy you told me! I've been _dying_ to know since Ashton told me the rumors my freshmen year!" She gave in to grabbing her hands, pulling her to her feet.

Avery found herself laughing. "If you knew the rumors then why'd you ask?"

She shrugged, unable to keep the grin from her face. "Rumors are rumors. You had like…not quite, but closer to first-hand knowledge."

She laughed, "I have two biased accounts from my mom and aunt, and my mom seems to hate her, so…"

Maggie let go of one of her hands, and began to lead her back down the path so they could finish their walk around the lake.

"A bad breakup would have to be the only way your mom could hate her. Other than being a tough grader, I've only ever heard nice things about her."

"I mean, I made good grades in her class, so," she said, laughing a bit. Mostly, she just wanted off the subject, and to get back to just enjoying her time with Maggie.

Maggie laughed along, squeezing Avery's hand. "Do you still wanna go get lunch, smartypants?"

"Of course!" As if that was even a question.

* * *

Diantha kept stride with Elesa as they walked the path around Lake Paige. Earlier in the week, Elesa had asked Diantha to accompany her to a photoshoot as moral support. It was a simple enough request that she couldn't find a reason to deny. It was only half an hour from Everett, so it wouldn't impede on her plans with Cynthia either.

"I don't think I've been this nervous for a shoot since my very first one," Elesa commented, running a hand through her long hair.

The walking around the lake before the shoot was supposed to help with that, but it only seemed to be aggravating it. At the very least, they still had an half an hour before they had to be at the main pavilion. "It's natural, Elesa. This is a bit of a big deal. Your first cover!" To say she was proud of her would have been an understatement.

"That's why I'm so nervous!" She was about ready to tear out her hair. "What if I'm so awful they decide to put someone else on the cover?"

"What do you think is going to actually happen, Elesa? And not based on your feelings, based on past experience." It was something Kathi Lee had asked her when she would get nervous before an audition. Despite how much she resented the woman, she couldn't deny that the question always helped ground her.

Elesa grumbled. "They're going to do my makeup, throw some clothes at me, take a million photos and then send me home. Worst case, the photographer might get grumpy with me, but it won't be that bad."

Diantha smiled. "I promise you, dear, everything will be alright. I'll stay with you through the whole shoot if you want me to."

"Only if you're okay with it. I know these things can take a few hours," she said, putting her hands in her hoodie's pocket.

She laughed lightly in response. "Elesa, at best, filming was a twelve hour day. A few hours is nothing." At most she figured it would take about four hours, and even if it went longer, she wasn't meeting Cynthia until six, so there was plenty of time.

"Still have no clue how you did that." When she only shrugged in response, it was her final tip that something was off. Ever since they had met she noticed something was off with her, but she couldn't quite place it. She wasn't giving enough indication of what was bothering her. "Can I ask you what's up? You seem out of it," she asked.

She laugh in a defeated way. There wasn't any use hiding it. Not from Elesa, anyways. If there was anyone to tell, she wouldn't. "I'll be honest. To put it simply, I have an ex back in my life, and I'm having…mixed feelings on the matter." Mixed might not have been the exact term, but she didn't bother to correct herself.

Elesa couldn't keep the smile from her face, nor could she resist the followup. "An ex from when you moved out here, or from when you were in the spotlight?" She asked. "If then, the reporter or Cynthia?" Though, she was confident in the answer.

Again, she laughed. It was still a strange feeling for Elesa to know so much about who she used to be. "Cynthia." She then caught the grin on her face, withholding a sigh. "Care to share what's so funny?"

She shrugged, but there was a giggle somewhere in her voice. "Just been wondering for the past two years or so if you two would ever reconnect."

As always, Diantha found herself in awe of the young woman ability —and willingness— to keep a secret. "Explain."

"She's Skyla's boss." To put it simply.

Diantha just shook her head. "Elesa Lynn, your ability to keep secrets is borderline terrifying. You could be harboring national secrets and none of us would be the wiser," she joked, but for a split second, she entertained the idea at least, but then decided that even that would be too far-fetched. Maybe.

She laughed, unable to contain it to giggles. "Not even gonna lie to you though, I almost blew that one. The very first time I saw her I almost said out lout, 'Oh, shit! It's Vanilla Ice!', and I've probably almost called her that when talking about her with Skyla."

Finally, Diantha laughed along genuinely. "Dear lord, I had forgotten about that awful nickname." It was only ever used in gaudy tabloids, and it had been a long time since she last paid attention to them.

Again, Elesa failed to resist. "Can I _please_ ask you how she got that nickname? Because, while I totally have the sudden desire to listen to the song whenever I see her, it's only because that was her awful nickname."

Diantha gave her a pointed look.

"It'll totally calm me down before this shoot." While maybe not the entire truth, it would give her something to think about at the very least.

She rolled her eyes, but gave in nonetheless. Besides, who was she going to tell, and what did it matter if it was old tabloid knowledge? "During the summers we would always go on dates along the river, and we would always stop at a specific bakery that had ice cream. I would get a pastry, and she would usually get ice cream. When it became known that it was an area I frequented, the paparazzi showed up as usual, and every time she happened to be in a picture with me, she always had ice cream."

"So…Vanilla Ice." The nickname reeked of tabloids, and also made her curious as to how famous the song was in Wisteria for the nickname to catch on.

The pavilion came into view, bringing the two of them to a stop.

"I just might have to remind her of it, because she hated it," she joked. She figured she wouldn't, but on the off chance she ever got called "phony" ever again, she at least had retaliation.

* * *

Pulling into a visitors spot, Maggie put her car in park, giving them time to finish up their conversation.

"Like I said, I'm gunning for guard captain, but I just don't know if I'll actually get it," Maggie said as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

Avery turned to face her. "I keep telling you, I think you have a pretty good shot at it. It's you, Jade, and Taylor going for guard captain next year, right?"

She nodded.

"I think you have the best chance at it," she said, figuring it wouldn't directly insult anyone. While it wasn't as if she had anything against the other girls, she didn't think they had the necessary take charge attitude the guard captains always had. Though, at best, her opinion was biased.

Maggie shrugged. "You and Ashton keep saying the same thing."

She laughed lightly. "Ashton's opinion probably means more. I mean, she _is_ the guard captain right now, so…she probably understands better of who would be the best leader. I want you to be guard captain because you're my friend and I know how much it all means to you."

She smiled at her. "Thanks."

"Plus, if we're being honest, you're the only one who can toss a rifle, and that's just super impressive to me," she added, earning a laugh from Maggie.

"I'm telling you, you could learn to toss one, too! It just takes work."

She laughed in turn, more mockingly. "I can barely toss a small flag without worrying it's going to land on my face."

Maggie snort-laughed in response. "Literally, that's why I wear contacts now. The very first time I tossed the rifle up it landed straight on my face, broke my glasses and nose."

Avery put her hands over her nose, sympathy pain shooting through her chest. "No," she dragged out.

She just nodded stoically before resolving back to laughter. "Anyways, it was great hanging out today."

"Yeah, definitely!" She agreed, taking her hands off her face. "We need to hangout again over break, okay?"

"Definitely!" Leaning over the console, she pulled her into a hug that didn't last long enough for either of their liking.

"I'll text you later," Avery said, reaching around her seat to grab her scarf before getting out of the car. Door closed behind her, an excited energy filled her every step. The day had gone so much better than she had even hoped it would.

Maggie kept her car in park, watching Avery in her rearview mirror. Gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles were white, something about the sound of her text tone going off broke her nerve. She had talked herself out of it the entire day, but now she refused to miss another opportunity.

All in a split-second decision, she got out of her car, not even bothering to take her keys out of the ignition. "Avery, wait!

She turned around, her blonde hair whipping around. She didn't have a chance to get a word out as Maggie ran up to her, meeting her at the sidewalk. A bright blush warmed her cheeks as she barely thought over what she was doing.

"Look," she began, grabbing her hands. "I've been chickening out all day, and I just refuse to wait until I see you again. I'm going to be really mad at myself if I don't." The more she talked, the quicker she was losing confidence. Letting go of her hands, she moved them to grab her scarf, pulling her down for a long overdue kiss…


	12. A Little Too Late

Chapter Twelve

A Little Too Late

Papers flew off Cynthia's desk as she searched around for her phone. It rang underneath the pile —a not so subtle reminder that she had yet to organize her home office. On the last ring, she found it, sliding to answer, not even bothering to check the caller id. "Hello?"

 _"_ _Cynthia, holy shit, you missed it."_ It was Kay, and she was obviously struggling to not laugh.

"What did I miss?" She asked, suddenly worried she might have missed a band concert or something, but then she remembered: fall break. Avery was still on fall break.

Kay laughed. _"Girl, I thought I was gonna have to_ beat _an ass today."_

"Oh god." There was no telling, so she pulled out her chair to take a seat, awaiting the rest of the story, and thoroughly ignoring the mess around her.

 _"_ _So, Avery went to hang out with her friend today, right? Maggie? The girl she has that big crush on?"_

"Right."

 _"_ _Well, Avery takes off the morning, and it's been a few hours. She texts me along the way, says they're going to get lunch and whatnot, then head home. A few hours after that, she comes home, I'm sitting on the couch, and the second the door is closed, she just breaks down on me. Like, Cindy, I'm talking crocodile tears, she can barely get a word out —like bawling her little eyes out."_

If it weren't for Kay's amused tone, she might have jumped to the wrong conclusion as well.

 _"_ _So, I'm instantly in momma bear mode, like, '_ _ **Who hurt my baby? Nobody hurts my baby! Whose ass do I have to beat?'**_ _on the defense, right? Internally, I was like…this is it. The day I go to jail. Hope I have everything in order so Avery goes to Cynthia…"_

Cynthia laughed.

 _"_ _But then, after probably fifteen minutes of calming her down from hyperventilating and sobbing on me…this fucking child…finally says in the tiniest, little voice, 'Maggie kissed me'."_

Together, the two began to laugh, Cynthia having to pull her phone away for a moment. While surprised, there was a part of her that also wasn't surprised in the least. It was a very Avery reaction. "I'm definitely glad you didn't have to go beat up a high schooler," she said, bringing the phone back.

"You and me both, but…god. I really thought I was going to have to beat someone today…"

They talked for a while longer, catching up with one another. How work had been going for both of them, how fall break had been apart from the day's event, and other day to day things.

Though, conveniently, Cynthia forgot to bring up seeing Diantha, along with the growing desire to do so again. Instead, she got caught up in the warm familial feeling of having her sister call out of the blue just to talk to her…

* * *

Avery slumped her shoulders, looking down at Maggie. "Let's just go." The school bell had rung over fifteen minutes ago, and she wanted to leave. With the end of the semester in sight, winter break practically called her name. Unfortunately, Maggie wasn't going to let her answer that call just yet.

Maggie shook her head. "Just go ask her! I don't know how to help you with your paper without basically writing it for you, and since your teacher isn't helping you, go ask her!" She could see that Avery still wasn't convinced. "Look, you either talk to Mrs. Gardner, a teacher you know, or come talk to my literature teacher, who you don't know. I'm not taking us home until you get the help you need." Giving her a narrow option was the only way she was going to get through to her.

With a heavy sigh, Avery caved. "Fine," she grumbled, turning to face the end of the hallway.

Maggie smiled, leaning against the wall. "I'll wait here, okay?"

"Sounds good," she said, before taking a deep breath. It was best to get everything over with. The paper was due Thursday, and it was already Tuesday afternoon. She had put it off long enough.

Forcing one foot in front of the other, she headed for Diantha's room. Peering in, she saw her former teacher sitting at her desk, eyes intent on her computer screen. "Mrs. Gardner?"

She turned away from her screen, surprised to see Avery in her doorway. "Oh, hello, Avery."

"Hi, Mrs. Gardner. I had a question for you," she began, crossing her arms, forcing herself to not look at the floor.

She turned completely in her chair. "Of course."

"Mr. Morrison just isn't understanding what I need help with, so I was wondering if I could ask you for help." She felt awkward asking her, but she tried to tell herself it would be better than asking Maggie's teacher for help.

"Sure thing! Go ahead and take that chair, and let's see if I can help."

She carefully sat in the desk, placing her backpack on the ground to pull out her book and papers. "It's supposed to be a response paper, but I've never really written one of those, and every time I ask him about it, he just tells me 'just write what you think about the story' but that doesn't tell me what I need to write!"

She hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, what did you think of the book? Was it good? Was it bad?"

She looked at the paperback book sitting on the desk with a mild disgust. "I liked the beginning a lot, but the ending felt like a smack in the face so now I'm just sitting here like…I don't know what to think…"

Thankfully, Diantha knew where to steer this. With enough questions of why she felt the story was unsatisfactory, and getting her to just vocalize the answer, within fifteen minutes she had a working idea of what she was going to write.

Packing her things back into her bag, Avery laughed to herself. "I should have just asked you last week," she said.

"When is that due?"

"Thursday," she sheepishly admitted. The amusement in Diantha's eyes caught her attention. "What's so funny?"

"Taking after your aunt and waiting until the very last minute to write papers, huh?" She asked.

She couldn't resist asking. "Was aunt Cindy that bad?"

She nodded. "Yes, however, she was more famous for writing them the night, or even morning before they were due." At least Cynthia had been gifted with the ability to read through a book in no time, and still have a good understanding of what she had read. "You've at least got tonight and tomorrow night. However, I wouldn't wait much longer to start writing."

She nodded in turn. "Oh, yeah, that will probably be the first thing I do when I get home."

Zipping up her bag, she stood up from the desk, ready to walk out of the room.

Diantha stood as well to walk her out. "If you ever need help again, don't be afraid to ask. You may not be my student anymore, but I am always willing to help you, Avery."

Stopping in the doorway, Avery turned to look at Diantha. A smile broke over her face, and in a split second, she made her decision. "Thank you, Dannie!" Hopefully nobody was around to hear it.

It was something Diantha realized she hadn't felt in a number of years. She hadn't felt it towards any of Mel's nieces and nephews, even for a second. If she thought on it, the only time she ever felt it was towards Avery all those years ago.

Something she always likened to an innate sense of familial affection.

She only nodded in response, feeling too choked up to trust her own voice.

Avery walked off, leaving Diantha to stand in the doorway. She watched as she joined Maggie, eagerly taking her hand as they headed off towards one of the school's exits.

"That's a motherly look on your face if I've ever seen one."

She turned to glance at Augustine, not moving from her spot. She returned her attention to Avery. "I've been seeing Cynthia more often, and I suppose it's stirring up old feelings. There was a time and day when I was almost Avery's aunt."

Avery and Maggie turned a corner, now out of her sight. When she looked at Augustine once again, his grin caught her off guard.

"Any chance you might become her aunt here in the future?"

She felt herself flush at the insinuation, her whole body wrapped in heat. She jokingly shoved him before turning around to go back into her room. "Oh, please. Just because I have dinner with Cynthia every once in a while doesn't mean anything of the sort."

He hummed in response as he moved to stand in the doorway, resting an arm up on the frame. "Tell me, Ann, how often is every once in a while?"

She moved about her desk, trying to organize things as best she could. She would resume her grading at home.

She thought about lying, but there was no use in doing so. "Maybe once every other week."

"Uh-huh." She could hear the grin in his voice. "And when are you seeing her next?"

She cradled a binder in her arms, turning to look at him once more. "We don't have plans as of yet. Though, maybe soon since it's almost winter break for us."

"And there's nothing going on there, huh?"

She rolled her eyes, pushing her chair aside, now searching for her bag. "I don't know, Augustine. It's…delicate, I suppose. I can't say I would be opposed to the idea of something along with friendship, but considering where I left things all those years ago, I'm just happy to have her in my life once more. I'm not going to push it." She realized it was the first time she had admitted any of this aloud. The flush from earlier was threatening to turn into a full on hot-flash.

He shrugged. "Fair enough."

Throwing her bag over her shoulder, she grabbed her binder back off her desk, and turned to Augustine. "Are you wanting to walk out together?" She asked.

"As always," He said, stepping back into the hallway.

Locking her room behind her, she began to dig through her bag. Her phone was lighting up from the depths of it, her father's name on the screen. She found herself laughing as she pulled it out, about to answer.

She looked up at Augustine. "I bet he's put another dent in a golf cart and wants to tell me about it," She said, sliding to answer.

He laughed lightly, knowing from the description alone it was her father calling.

"Hello, father!" She greeted. "…I'm doing well! The school day ended a while ago, and so I'm about to head home. How about you?"

Augustine walked silently beside her, unable to hear any of what her father was saying. Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed that she began to fall behind. When he stopped to give her a questioning look, he watched her smile slowly fall into neutrality.

"I see," She said. She adjusted the grip on her binder, allowing her hand to fall to her side. "I…" Her gaze fell to the ground, unwilling to make eye contact with Augustine. If she did, she risked cracking. "Let me get home and I will…I will see what I can do."

Her phone almost slipped from her hand as she tried to put it back into her bag. Frustrated, she threw it into the bag haphazardly, cramming her binder in after it.

"Everything okay?" Augustine carefully asked.

She took a shallow breath, shaking her head. "My mother died, Augustine," was all she could get out.

All at once everything was too much. She didn't want to deal with this. She didn't want to deal with any of it. It was three days from the end of the semester. She had final exams to give on Thursday, not a funeral to plan.

Unable to voice anything, she continued on, intent on the front office to sign out, and prayed she could figure out what to do or say by the time she reached there.

"Diantha, wait!"

She ignored him, all while knowing at the back of her mind that she would have been furious any other time her first name was said on school grounds.

All she could think about was what she needed to get in order. A substitute to take over her classes for the last few days, and someone to grade the tests she planned to give. Or at least someone who could scan everything and send it to her.

She needed to figure out getting a ticket to Wisteria, and make the decision to fly into either Rennon or Calgary.

Figuring out everything that went into a funeral was what she was least looking forward to. Especially considering the person it was for.

She desperately wished everything would just be taken care of, but her father had specifically asked for her help, and she knew she couldn't refuse him.

" _Diantha_ ," Augustine said under his breath, putting himself in front of her. Still caught up in her thoughts, she nearly walked into him.

"What?" She asked, harsher than she intended.

"Please take a second and just breathe."

It was something she had been told plenty of times in her life. Between anxiety from auditions in her past, to her current anxiety towards life in general, being told to 'just breathe' was nothing new. The only newness was the sudden anger that came along with being told to breathe.

"Diantha," He said, much softer.

She exhaled, something about his tone quelling the anger. She wouldn't take out her frustrations on him simply because he dared to care. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. What can I do for you right now?" He asked.

She shook her head, not entirely sure of what he could do to help. "Just…" She took a small step towards the office. "You being here is enough." Now more than ever she was glad nothing had ended up strained between them. She was glad he showed up that first morning after fall break with a coffee for her, and a reminder that no matter what they were friends…

* * *

Diantha sighed heavily after dropping her small suitcase by her door. It was packed with enough to get her through the few days she would be Wisteria, with a newly purchased funeral outfit sitting somewhere in the bottom.

"You would die when it's least convenient for me, wouldn't you?" She asked aloud.

A wave of hot shame washed over her as she chastised herself for saying such a thing. Despite everything she had against her mother, she told herself she had to behave appropriately. Her father was grieving, and there were things to get in order. Dragging her personal feelings into the matter would only complicate things. She could express her true feelings on everything at a later time.

Returning to her kitchen, she took a seat at the table, going over her mail. The whole day she had been filled with anxious energy. She hated missing work, especially at the end of the semester. It wasn't something she had ever done, and she prayed she would never have to do it again in the future.

Augustine had been right, however. Despite the fact that she could have physically made it into work, mentally, she would have been absolutely useless. It was best she stay home, putting all her focus onto getting things for the funeral in order.

Thankfully, with it being a family emergency, the school had worked with her as much as they could. One of the other literature teachers had volunteered to grade all her final exams, and while it had been one of the junior's teachers, she was grateful it was her who volunteered. Morrison and the other sophomore teacher tended to grade differently than her, and she wouldn't have felt comfortable leaving it all to them.

The sound of her phone from back in the living room caught her attention. Its tone indicated it was a video call. She hoped it was Siebold. If there was anyone who could keep her anxiety at bay, it would be him…

* * *

Long after the airplane's wheels had touched ground and sat around the tarmac for a good half hour due to gate assignment issues, Diantha finally stepped foot into the terminal. The entire flight had been a nightmare. The person to her right had been far too talkative, and the person on the window seat kept the shade down the entire way. It was a small thing, but had irritated her greatly.

Never before had Rennon airport been so delightful.

The terminal they arrived in had been renovated since she last flew in. The floor to ceiling windows that were at least two stories high left the airport feeling more open than previously.

As she made her way towards the baggage claim, thoughts about what was to come started creeping in. Despite it still being relatively early back in Cordova, with little sleep over the past few days, she was exhausted. Feeling that way made it more difficult to keep those thoughts at bay.

Thankfully, to help with all of that, she would have Siebold, who had dutifully arrived to pick her up just as her flight had landed.

It wasn't difficult to spot him as she exited out of the terminal to the waiting area. A thick navy-blue sweater, and a haircut that seemed new since they last spoke.

While returning to Wisteria always made her anxious —plenty of times she had run into people who remembered her— the sight of Siebold always had a way of easing that.

He stood above most of the crowd, smiling the second his eyes landed on her.

She nearly dropped her carry-on purse as she wrapped him in a strong embrace, her head just barely at his chest. "I am so glad to see you, dear Siebold." If they weren't in the middle of an airport, she might have been tempted to stay in his arms longer. It was a place that never failed to comfort her in ways not many people could. Strong and warm, it put the thoughts of what was to come just out of reach.

His laugh rumbled against her ear.

"It's good to see you, too, Diantha. Though, I am again sorry for why you're here," he said, once she had finally let go of him.

They began walking towards the baggage claim area. "It is what it is, Siebold. I just want things to go as smoothly as possible."

He nodded. "I've been helping your father as closely as possible with arranging things. Cress and his brothers have been helping as well. I'll be damned if this goes any other way than smoothly."

Between their four attentions to detail —barring Chili perhaps— things were bound to go as planned.

There were only a few things that could go wrong, but she forced herself to think about other things instead of them. The sooner all of this was over, the sooner she would get her final goodbye to her mother, and it would all be over and done with.

After getting her bag, they made their way for the parking garage. The second the automatic doors opened, a rush of cold air blew into the building. It was already cold when Diantha had flew out of Cordova, but she had forgotten just how cold December in Wisteria could be.

She pulled her coat closer to herself, regretting not wearing her winter coat, or at least having it easily accessible. Instead, it was at the bottom of the small suitcase Siebold was now carrying.

"I can't believe I used to live in this," she grumbled, taking relief in the slight shelter the parking garage provided them as they got deeper into the structure.

"Cordova has made you soft," He joked, finally arriving at his vehicle. Touching the driver's side door handle, the keyless entry opened all the doors, allowing Diantha to climb in while he stowed her suitcase.

The car hadn't retained any warmth, leaving Diantha still shivering.

How she and Cynthia would go out in weather like this, wearing only a light coat, was beyond her.

Which reminded her that she had yet to even speak a word of this to Cynthia. She wasn't sure if she could handle that on top of everything else. A few days of silence would likely go unnoticed. Otherwise, it was a bridge she would cross when she got to it.

"So," Siebold began, finally getting into the driver's seat. "I am assuming the first thing you want to do in the morning is go see your father?" He asked, starting the car. He then reached over to press the buttons that would start the seat warmers.

She nodded. "Yes, that would probably be best." She then looked to him. "And thank you again for letting me stay with you."

He shook his head. "It's no trouble at all, Diantha. With the chaos of all of this, and with how much your father downsized, you staying with us seems most fitting. Even with Cress's brothers, there's still more than enough space."

"Still mulling over the idea of adopting?" She asked.

He nodded. "It's been coming up more frequently. We're both very on the fence about it, and it's not something to go into without being completely sure."

They discussed the topic some more as they made the drive out to northern Wevock, going over the various reasons he and his husband were unable to reach a decision on whether or not to adopt.

The snowfall had begun to pick up. The driveway leading up to Seibold's house was covered in a new layer, Diantha laughing to herself as Siebold then grumbled about having to clear it later.

Car in the garage, Cress greeted them at the door. "I'm glad you made it in alright," He said, giving Diantha a small hug once she was inside. "I know that isn't exactly the most pleasant of flights."

She forced a laugh, walking with them into the kitchen. Like most of their house, it was a sleek modern design, consisting of mostly greys and whites, with accents of blue.

Siebold kept walking towards the stairs. "I'm going to put your bag in the room you usually stay in," He told her.

She gave him a quick thank you before returning her attention to Cress. "It wasn't the length of the flight that was bad, it was the woman next to me who gave me her life story that was."

He laughed along. "Surly it reminded you of your famous days?"

"At least then I expected it. Learning Vivian's story about going to law school and washing out was not what I was expecting on my flight." Whether it had been fans, or some of the extras or newer costars she had worked with, she had expected to be given a life story now and then. It came with the territory.

"Fair enough," he said, now standing with her at the island.

She looked around. "Are your brothers here?" She asked.

Before he could even get a word out, her question was answered with the return of Siebold who now had Cilan with him.

"My apologies," the middle brother began. "I just got out of the shower, and Chili's on a phone call." His hair was still damp, and he carried with him a small cloud of whatever body wash he used, that was piney and delightful.

While she loved all three brothers, owing each of them a great personal debt for being there to help her move out while divorcing Mel, secretly, Cilan was always her favorite. Typically, he was calm and reserved, but every now and then she had been around when they had gotten onto a topic he was deeply passionate about, and he would talk a mile a minute. It was all incredibly endearing to her, and so she got along with him the best.

"I wish I could say it's good to see you," He said, keeping his hands folded neatly at his front.

She shrugged. "The circumstances may be not ideal, but it is good to see you, dear Cilan."

They exchanged a quick hug, and just before he could ask her how she was doing, the door to the laundry room off to the side opened, Chili shoving his phone into his pocket. He audibly groaned as he walked into the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, Burgundy saw another chihuahua-sized rat and had a bit of a freak-out, and– oh, hey, Diantha."

Despite the absurdity of it all, Diantha found herself laughing. A good feeling. "Well I can't say I'm not morbidly curious now," She said. "Hello, Chili."

Everyone turned their attention to the youngest triplet.

"Renovating an old bakery with my girlfriend, and we're finding out exactly why she got it so cheap." He held his hands up, sizing out roughly the size of a small dog. "I swear to you, Diantha, the fuckin' things are this big."

She covered her mouth in disgust. "And she's still planning to sell baked goods out of that place?"

Cilan looked at her. "My point exactly."

Chili gave a dismissive wave of the hand. "We're stripping the place down to the bones. She saw it while walking through with the guy who was telling her if the place could be saved, structurally. Good news: it's structurally sound."

"Bad news is you said chihuahua-sized rats and that's all I'll be able to think about if I ever set foot in the building," Cress countered.

Diantha was more than inclined to agree with him.

"See, the thing is, though, I already had pest control come by. The guy didn't think it was coming from our old building, but one of the neighboring ones. Health inspector might have gotten an 'anonymous' tip," He said, making air quotes with his fingers.

Cress leaned on the marble countertop of the island. "So, when _is_ Burgundy going to be more than your girlfriend?"

Diantha looked to him. "You know, I was going to ask something similar. This is a big project to be taking up with someone who is just a girlfriend."

He looked around the room, ending in a shrug. "I'm here to help with a funeral. I don't want to try to steal anyone's thunder."

"Chili dear, I could always use good news," She said.

He seemed to consider it for a few more seconds, before shrugging with a small smile. "We've been talking and agreed that if we could still stand one another after going through a renovation, I would propose."

It brought a more genuine smile to her face. "I'm so very happy for you, dear," She said. And she was. From what she understood, he and his girlfriend were both hotheaded by nature, but were determined to work it out with one another. Cress and Cilan would often comment on how she was the only person Chili had ever been serious about. Diantha hadn't met her, but she hoped to one day soon enough.

"Thanks, but now I'm in the situation where I want it to still be a surprise! I don't want the day after reno is all done and just bam! Proposal time!"

Siebold laughed lightly. "You could always do what I did and act like you were going to propose for about three months–"

Cress immediately cut in. "Excuse you! That was a five-month period, I remember! I was there! And in the end, it was me who ended up proposing!"

Siebold laughed, looking over the counter at his husband. "And what were your absolutely charming words that swept me off me feet?"

Diantha looked expectantly to Cress. She was aware that Cress ended up "stealing" the ring and proposing, since Siebold was having a little too much fun dragging it out. But Siebold was making it sound as though there was more to the story that he hadn't even shared with her up until now.

Cress looked to the side, embarrassed. "We all already know that I am the most charming of the three of us. I don't need to rub it in."

Chili immediately looked to Siebold. "Are you really only just now telling me that he fucked it up? After all these years?"

They had been married for five years now, and to have held onto something for that long left Diantha curious as well. "It must have been a spectacular mess-up."

Siebold looked to her. "Not to drag up something so old, but think back to how you and Cynthia admitted your feelings for one another before your graduation."

She laughed. If it was even in the ballpark as bad as theirs had been, that would be a feat on its own.

Cress turned to her, exasperated. "You know, how _are_ things with her? I hear you two are seeing one another more frequently," Cress said, desperately trying to side-track the conversation.

Chili wasn't about to let it happen. "Oh, no, don't even think you can get out of this. I gotta know. We can ask about her train wreck later! I wanna know about this one!"

His cheeks had gained a little color by then, and if they hadn't been in the middle of teasing him, she would have fared no better.

"Regale us, Cress. Tell them exactly how you won me over," Siebold encouraged.

"I must admit, I am also dying to hear this," Cilan commented.

Cress looked around the room, all attention on him. He caved. "After I mistook his actual attempt to propose to me as more of his nonsense, he started to put the ring box away, and so I snatched it out of his hand and got down on my own knee to propose."

"And you said…?" Siebold prompted.

The buildup was tormenting Diantha, and she prayed it would pay off. With how embarrassed Cress was getting, something she had hardly ever seen, surly it would be with it.

Cress crossed his arms, only looking at Siebold as he spoke. "Marry me already, you big oaf."

Everyone in the room immediately began laughing, much to his own dismay. Diantha's cheeks began to hurt.

"Fuck, dude! I thought I was bad with words!" Chili responded, wiping the corner of his eyes. It wasn't every day the youngest triplet got to razz the oldest.

"Yes, yes, eat it up," Cress grumbled. He looked to Siebold. "I must love you," He said.

Diantha watched Siebold, the teasing look in his eyes coupled with all the love in the world for his husband.

"You know," Diantha began. "I would put that on par with me and Cynthia practically yelling at one another, 'I want to kiss you and it's driving me insane!'"

Siebold snickered. "And then her yelling, 'well then do it!'"

Cress groaned. "Stars above."

Diantha gave him a sympathetic look. "See, we can't all have a way with words all the time, Cress."

Cilan chimed in. "Yes, but you were, I assume, no more than eighteen when you said that?" He looked to his brother. "He said that at thirty-one."

"Though, does it say more about me? Because I did say yes." Siebold asked.

They continued to razz Cress some more, and his attempts at deflecting were eventually successful. They sat around the kitchen island catching up with one another, and eventually going over what all they had managed to get done.

Plans were set to meet with a funeral director the next day in the afternoon. Cremation services had already been arranged, and if things went as planned, the funeral would be set for some time over the weekend. Saturday was the ideal, but with it being relatively close to the winter holidays, they would take what they could get.

Diantha was hoping for Saturday, that way things would be done with as soon as possible. However, the more she thought on it, with it still being Thursday night, something about it felt distinctly far off. So close, and yet so far.

As she mulled about the spare bedroom that was setup for her, she felt the sudden and overwhelming desire to call Cynthia. The three-hour time difference would be at her advantage, but despite it, she forced the feeling aside. She had a funeral to get through, and being in Wisteria while hearing Cynthia's voice decidedly seemed like too much to handle in the moment.

For now, she just wanted to conserve as much mental energy she had for the next few days…

* * *

The funeral ended up being scheduled for Sunday, late in the afternoon. It all rolled around far too slowly for Diantha.

Dressed in black, she stood towards the back of the crowd gathered by the mausoleum's south wall. She told herself she wouldn't get within reading distance until everyone else had cleared out.

Standing back gave her a good scope of the people around her. Many people she recognized from throughout her childhood. Many of her father's friends had offered her their condolences as well. Some of the faces, however, she hadn't seen in a number of years. She didn't dare approach anyone she recognized to be a friend of her mother's, and if they approached her, she kept things to a minimum.

To her surprise, Grant had showed up for a while to offer his condolences. While his visit was short, it was a much-needed reprieve.

The brothers and Siebold mingled about, talking to people as necessary. She fought to think of a way to thank them all later. They were going above and beyond.

"Are you doing alright?" Siebold asked her, returning to her side. Cress came to stand at her other side, but said nothing. Cilan and Chili were still somewhere among the crowd.

She only blinked, body stiff. "I am here."

Siebold hummed. "Despite how…unpleasant of a woman she could be, I do want you to know that it is alright to feel sadness during this."

Cress nodded. "I would agree. My brothers and I had a similar relationship with our parents. Allowing ourselves to accept feeling sad during our father's funeral was…a process."

"Thank you both, but…I am not sad. I am here, and that's all I care to be right now," she said, keeping her eyes on the crowd. Her eyes searched for her father, but he was nowhere to be seen. Like her he was probably avoiding things until they cleared.

Siebold and Cress looked at one another. Just as Siebold was going to say something, he stopped short. His voice dropped, and the look in his eyes reminded Diantha of a violent sea. "Cress, get your brothers." He placed himself in front of her, blocking the man he saw approaching.

She peered around him, and despite the surge of anger in her stomach upon seeing her ex-husband walking towards them, she retained her calm. "Cress, don't bother," she said.

He stuck by her side, but he was almost as tense as Siebold was.

"You were not invited, Mel Gardner. You need to leave," Siebold said, stepping forward to cut him off.

Mel put his hands up, keeping a safe distance away from him. "I'm just here to offer my condolences." He looked to Diantha before back to Siebold. "I also want to talk to Diantha for just a moment."

"I will say it only once more: _you need to leave_ ," He hissed. He knew better than to cause a scene at a funeral, but he wasn't going to make Mel feel welcome in any capacity.

Diantha put a hand on his arm, pushing lightly against it. "Siebold, it's fine."

He looked down at her, but ultimately stepped aside. The look he gave Mel told her he wouldn't be too far away if needed. All of which she was thankful for, but she was determined to fight her own battle this time.

Crossing her arms, she looked over Mel. He hadn't changed too much since she last saw him. The only thing that had changed were the lines now on his forehead, and the lack of his bleached blond hair. Though, she would have been willing to place money that he still had it dyed to keep any grey out of the brown.

He at least had the decency to show up in mute colors.

"Well, Mel, to what do I owe the displeasure of having you show up, uninvited, to my mother's funeral?" She asked.

He gave a one-armed shrug. "C'mon, Diantha. Unless you and Geneviève had a miraculous turnaround in your relationship, I'm sure it's safe to say that you're not happy to be here."

She rolled her eyes, taking a step back. While he wasn't wrong, she wasn't about to give him any sort of satisfaction. "Starting off like this, are we?"

He rolled his eyes. "Look, one of the last times I saw you, Siebold was threatening me, and now, once again, it's Siebold threatening me, staring me down like he's your personal guard dog. Understand he's got me a little on edge," He explained.

Now it was painful to hold back her emotions. How dare _he_ play the victim of that situation? "Oh, I'm sorry, do you need to be reminded why Siebold was threatening you last time? Why I had him, Grant, Cress and his brothers, all threatening you to varying degrees? Have you forgotten what brought that about?" Her voice was about as cold as the temperature outside. He would get no mercy from her when it came to why that had happened.

His mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out. She had cornered him, much like he had cornered her at one time.

"Sorry," He began, more carefully this time. "Look, let's start this over. I heard from a few people of your mother's passing, and I wanted to come offer my condolences. I'm sorry for your loss, Diantha. I know you and her weren't that close, but offering a few apologies to you is the least I can do."

Her arms remained crossed. "A _few_ apologies?" She wasn't even sure why she was letting him continue. It seemed even after years of separation, he still had a way of getting her attention in one way or another.

"Yes. Seeing as I'll likely never get another opportunity like this, I wanted to apologize for, well, everything, Diantha. For how I treated you, and for what I did to our marriage. I should have been there for you. Ignoring you and punishing you for your problem wasn't the right thing to do, and if I could go back and do it all over again, I would do things very differently. For all of that, Diantha Ann, I am sorry."

She stared at him for a moment, and despite how long that moment felt, during all of it she couldn't find a shred of desire to forgive him. Remembering the place she had been, mentally, by the end of their marriage left her with little forgiveness. "Words don't mean a whole lot when they're late, Mel. I accept your apology, but I do not forgive you."

He shrugged again, stepping back from her. "I understand. Wherever you are in life, Diantha, I hope you're well." With that he turned to walk away, and she watched him walk into the midst of the crowd.

A chill ran through her, but not from the cold.

She felt a new presence come to stand next to her. "Hey, was that shit-head?"

Finally, a genuine smile came across her face as she looked up at Chili, who had come to stand next to her. His red eyes were practically burning a hole into the back of her ex-husband's head.

"Yes, it was, but no need to worry about it. I put him in his place," she told him.

He crossed his arms, leaning his head down so only she could hear. "Want me to follow him around, standing really close and just stare him down?"

She placed a hand on his cheek, smiling at him. "Dear Chili, you're too kind," she joked, bringing her hand back.

"Anything for you, Diantha. Just say the word," He said, stepping away to give her space.

Siebold and Cress returned to her. "He gets two minutes and then I'm throwing his ass out," Siebold grumbled.

"Dear," Cress scolded. "This is a funeral."

He shifted his weight to his other foot. "Fine, he gets five minutes." He then gave his attention to Diantha, softening his tone. "Did he say anything to require me to take that back?" He asked.

She shook her head. "He apologized for a few things. I told him I accepted his apology, but that I did not forgive him."

"The high road," Cress said. "I'm proud of you."

"I would have punched him in the dick," Chili said point blank, earning another laugh from Diantha, and a scolding from his brother.

Siebold scoffed, crossing his arms. "For once I'm inclined to agree with you."

More than ever, she was thankful for her boys. Even as crass as Chili's comments could be, the chance to laugh freely left her in better spirits.

Not long after, Cilan returned to their group, and the four of them did what they could to pass time. The feeling of just being there lessened, and once the crowd had disappeared, Diantha found herself more grounded in the moment.

"Can you all give me a moment alone?" She asked, clasping her hands at her front.

Siebold nodded. "Sure. Cress and I will be at the car."

"We'll see you back at you father's," Cilan said for himself and Chili.

With that, she was left alone. A cool breeze flowed into the building, and her footsteps echoed off the slate walls.

She stood in front of her mother's spot. Nothing more than a small square among many others on the cremation wall.

Geneviève Ella Moreau-Ruston

13 September 1952 — 12 December 2017

She hadn't asked her father for any details regarding her death. Regardless, he had told her.

Unbeknownst to Diantha, her mother's health had been declining for the past few years, and her father would regularly check up on her. The person she had left him for had abandoned her at the first sign of bad health, and being her ex-husband, he felt a certain responsibility to her.

In the end, Diantha knew he just didn't want her to die alone. Maybe it was more than she deserved.

"I suppose if there is a god, I hope they let you know exactly what you did to me, mother. I hope you are forced to see just what you did to father and everyone else around you. I also hope it burns you knowing I got the last laugh since, in one way or another, Cynthia came back to me, and now there is nothing you could ever hope to do about that." She placed a hand on her name, but fell silent, not a word of taunt left in her.

For a while, she stood there, not saying anything, listening to the silence that surrounded her. In the silence, a deep-seated dread crept in that she couldn't force down no matter how hard she tried. It burned in her chest and left a sting in her eyes.

Memories of her early childhood sat at the edge of her mind. A time before she was even aware of the kind of woman her mother was. A time when her mother had been her favorite person on the planet. When she was still small enough to be picked up and spun around, a kiss on both cheeks leaving a smear of whatever color lipstick she happened to be wearing for the day, and being asked, "What did you learn about today, dear Diantha?" And she would tell her with as much enthusiasm a child could muster, and her mother would listen attentively.

A time when she would get scolded for being "too rambunctious and unladylike" because she was bound and determined to climb the magnolia tree in the back gardens. A scolding that always had a small, amused smile to it.

Where had that woman gone?

And why had she disappeared right around Diantha's tenth birthday?

Soft and slow footsteps caught her attention. She quickly retracted her hand, turning to see who was approaching. It was her father. "Hello, dear," he said, coming to stand next to her.

She looked over the age-worn man, who would be turning seventy in February, smiling gently. "Hello, father. I take it you also wanted to wait for the crowd to leave?"

He nodded, keeping his eyes on Geneviève's plaque. "Yes. I wasn't up to dealing with half of them. Be sure to remind me to thank the boys for talking to everyone."

"Of course." A brief quiet fell over them.

Gabriel was the first to break it. "Diantha, I know you and your mother weren't close. I know she made some…questionable choices in her life, but I do hope you know she loved you."

"I know," was all she could respond with. It was her funeral, she reminded herself.

It wasn't as if she ever doubted her mother loved her. That she was sure of; just as she was sure that her mother's love was an unhealthy one.

However, as Gabriel continued to talk, she said nothing else. His voice was soft and full of reminiscence. He was grieving, and she wasn't going to bring her own feelings on the matter into it. Even when he spoke of events they both had clearly different recollections of, she remained silent.

After a while, he was done, and with a promise to return often, the two finally left the mausoleum.

Walking with her arm through her father's, if nothing more than to keep him steady, she couldn't get herself off one reoccurring thought.

 _"_ _I hope you know just how much he loved you. Even after you left."_

His unfaltering love for her mother was definitely more than she deserved, in her opinion.

* * *

The following morning, Diantha awoke much earlier than she would have liked to. The sleep she had received was hardly of any quality, and she couldn't convince her body to go back to sleep.

Thankfully, Cilan was an early riser, so she wasn't alone when she walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning, Diantha," he greeted, sipping his coffee. "I've made some coffee if you would like some."

"Thank you, Cilan." She went through the process of making her coffee, faltering slightly when she couldn't remember where spoons were kept.

Cilan's soft steps caught her attention. "Here," he said, pulling a spoon out of the drawer she had been looking for.

"You would think with how often I've been here I would have figured that out by now," She said, stirring cream and sugar into her drink.

He laughed lightly, returning to his spot on the island counter stool. "The rhythm of their kitchen doesn't make much sense, even to me. We had to stop going into one another's kitchens because we just get frustrated with each other," He joked.

She said nothing in response, only sipping her coffee, adding more cream until she was satisfied. Carefully, she took the seat next to Cilan, enjoying the view out of the large window.

"So," Cilan began after a quick drink of his coffee. "How are you feeling this morning?" He asked.

She took a long sip of her drink. "Again, I am here. To be honest with you, Cilan, I don't know that I will be ready to process this for...some time."

He nodded. "That's how I was when our father passed away. I refused to feel anything towards it, and it took a lot of encouragement from my girlfriend of the time just to even begin working through it. Though, I don't want you to take this as me forcing you to confront any feelings. I just want you to know it's okay to take your time with all of it."

"I'm aware. Getting back to Cordova will help with that." The idea of seeing Cynthia when she got back crossed her mind, which brought another idea to mind. "Actually, this is unrelated, but may I ask a favor of you, Cilan?"

He turned to face her better. "Of course."

"I want to check up on my father, but there's somewhere I want to visit first. Even in all my trips visiting back, I haven't been there in over ten years. It might not still be there, but I want to see if it is."

"I'd be happy to take you…"

* * *

The wind from the day before had died down. Snow resumed falling in heavy flakes, crunching loudly beneath Diantha and Cilan's steps as they walked along the riverfront. Storefronts were lit, and with the anticipation of the winter holiday, plenty of people lined the streets, not thinking anything of the snow.

"So, may I ask why you haven't been this way in over ten years?" Cilan asked, adjusting the scarf around his neck.

She laughed lightly. "I could tell you that it's because I would often get harassed by paparazzi back when I was somebody, but that wouldn't be the complete truth, dear Cilan."

"So, what is?"

She brought them to a stop in front of a small bakery, wedged between two stores. Thankfully, it was almost exactly the same as she last saw it. The only thing different was a fresh coat of paint, and different stores at its side. "I used to come here with my ex-girlfriend a lot, and coming here only brought memories of her back."

He nodded, "I used to have places like that, so I understand."

"But now, I think it's time to let that just be a memory." And maybe it would be an easy thing. After all, she realized, Cynthia was no longer a sore subject.

She then offered to buy him a coffee, if only so she could live one last time in that memory, at least. It wasn't a hard thing to do. Upon opening the door the smell that was so familiar, warm and sweet, she couldn't even fathom ever forgetting it, enveloped her.

Sitting by the window, she couldn't resist taking a picture and sending it to Cynthia. While she made sure to not give away the location completely, there was a likelihood that she would still remember as well.

 _"_ _I'll fill you in later on why I'm here,_

 _but goodness I had forgotten just how cold it gets in Wisteria."_

* * *

Unlike the previous few days, everything after that seemed to go by in a rush. Checking in on her father, visits, many more pictures sent to Cynthia, and figuring out what to do with her father for the winter holiday, Diantha was right back at the airport with Siebold, just as it all began.

Walking with her, and carrying all her things, once her bag was checked in, he stood with her outside of security.

"So, you'll be coming back soon?" He asked.

She nodded, adjusting the strap of her purse. "Yes. Father doesn't feel up to flying out to me, and despite not wanting to fly again, I absolutely will not leave him alone during the holiday. I'll be flying back in on the twenty-fourth, and I will leave after the new year. I will stay with him, though. I don't want to impose on you and Cress again."

He shook his head. "It was hardly an imposition, Diantha. We were glad to do whatever we could for you."

She smiled at him, eternally grateful for the man. "Could I ask you to check up on my father a time or two before I get back? I plan on calling him more often, but…" She hated asking such thing of him, but it would ease her anxiety significantly; which he likely understood.

"I had already planned on doing so."

She pulled him into a hug, enjoying the fabric of his blue sweater. "Thank you for everything, dear Siebold."

"Again, it was no trouble." He pulled away from her. "Let me know when you've gotten back to Cordova, alright?"

"Of course. Goodbye, my dear," She said, turning to make her way into security. Thankfully, Rennon's security was always a breeze. Within minutes she had her purse back from the scanner, and was on her way to her gate.

Earlier in the day she had promised to give Cynthia a call, and with an hour until her flight boarded, now was as good as ever. Finding a seat by a large window, she grabbed her phone, searching through for Cynthia's number.

After a few rings, _"So, I'm glad to hear you obviously haven't frozen to death. I was getting worried."_

She laughed lightly, pulling her hair to one side. "There's still an hour before my flight boards, so let's not test my luck, dear Cynthia." She forced down the feeling from using the endearment. She hadn't used it since their first coffee date.

 _"_ _In all seriousness, is everything okay? I get the feeling a short-notice trip to Wisteria wasn't for fun."_

"You would be correct." She paused for a few seconds, looking through her reflection at a luggage cart as it drove underneath the jetways. "My mother passed."

 _"_ _I'm so sorry, Diantha."_ There was a sincerity in her voice that was evident even on the phone. It brought her a small comfort.

She shrugged to herself. The cold seeping in from the window was making her regret her choice in seating. "It is what it is, at this point. I will…sort my feelings on all of it when I get home."

 _"_ _I know you're not here right now, but…Is there anything I can do for you?"_

She forced a quick laugh. "To be honest, the main thing I want right now is to just get home and sleep in my own bed…And as cliché as it sounds, hearing your voice is more than enough for me, right now."

There was a laugh on her end. _"Well, the great thing is, most of my job is talking, so I would be more than happy to regale you on all kinds of things."_

"Tell me, darling, did another child walk off with a piece of your geology display?" She asked, amused.

 _"_ _Worse: a child walked off with a decent sized piece of the mushroom display from the bioluminescence exhibit."_

She couldn't resist a laugh. "I hope you weren't the one leading that tour."

 _"_ _No, thankfully. The staff meeting I had after that was about as equally bad, because I don't like getting onto my staff like that, but…come on. A large, plastic, glowing, mushroom. Just…I'm still at a loss for words, Diantha. How does that even happen? Thankfully the parent noticed and returned it, but…still. That's a visiting exhibit. Steven and I spent the day combing over the exhibit to see if we could figure out how it was taken, but we still couldn't figure it out…"_

She sat with her on the phone for well over a half hour, mind temporarily taken off the events from the last few days with the aid of a little laughter.

 _"_ _So, hey, before I let you go, if you need anything just let me know, okay? Even if you just need some company, I'm more than willing to come out to you."_

"That's very sweet of you, Cynthia, but I wouldn't want to force you to drive that much just to keep me company." Though, as she said it, she couldn't help but realize that it was exactly what she wanted in the moment. Maybe even more so than getting to sleep in her own bed.

 _"_ _You would hardly be forcing me. I have Thursday and Friday off this week, so just keep it in mind, okay?"_

"I will, dear Cynthia. Thank you." The warmth returned to her neck; a childish feeling.

 _"_ _I know it will be late when you get in, but at least text me when you get home, okay?"_

"If you're okay with getting that text around midnight, I definitely will." She figured she would then back out of it, opting to be told the following morning.

 _"_ _I just want to know that you're safe."_

At the risk of something coming out that she wasn't prepared to say, she said her goodbye, and put her phone away in her purse. The lighting left her with nothing more than her reflection staring back at her, and the soft voice of the gate agent announcing information about the flight.

Despite being exhausted in many different ways, she was sure she wasn't going to get any sleep on the flight.

To keep herself occupied until it was time to board, she thought back on a time when she had sat at his exact airport with Cynthia. They had sat together many times when they would go on trips together, taking advantage of what they could of her filming. While Rennon had changed considerably since then, the memories were still clear to Diantha.

It was easy to get lost in thoughts of resting her head on Cynthia's shoulder, off and on reading whatever book happened to be in her hands for the trip. Usually something mythology or university related.

While it might have been easy to wish to go back to those times, instead, Diantha merely found herself wishing she were there now. She didn't want a shoulder to rest on. She wanted _her_ shoulder to rest on.

The desire sat with her the entire way back to Cordova.

* * *

Cynthia stood at the foot of her bed, reaching out then pulling her hand back a few times. Her own indecisiveness was driving her insane.

Ever since she had put together that Diantha was back in Wisteria, worry for her sat heavy in her chest.

When she learned of Geneviève's passing, it only doubled that worry. Diantha had sounded so exhausted on the phone the last time they spoke Tuesday afternoon, when she asked for her company. It had left her distracted enough all of the previous day to get Steven's attention. When she explained the situation to him, he sympathized with her, and asked to pass along his regards to Diantha.

"Better to have it and not need it," She reasoned aloud, finally making the decision to bring a small bag with a change of clothes. She could stow it in her trunk, and that way Diantha wouldn't even notice it unless she brought attention to it herself. If Diantha wanted her company for the night, she would be prepared.

Though, as she walked out the door, locking it behind her, she found herself with some anxiety towards the thought.

A memory of telling Avery, _"There's no way in hell I'd ever date her again"_ crept to the forefront of her mind.

Something about the whole scenario felt like it was going against that.

She told herself to not worry over it. She had said it out of anger and confusion, and things had changed since then. No longer did any of that old, deep-seated resentment sit with her. The only thing that did was the overwhelming desire to comfort Diantha during her time of need.

Once in her car, she began to let the engine warm as she dug in her coat pocket for her phone. A new message from Diantha sat on the screen.

 _"_ _I figure I should warn you ahead of time.  
On an impulse I got a haircut that might seem a little drastic." _

At that, she found herself with an amused grin.

"Don't tell me anything else. I want to be surprised."

And surprised she was.

An hour later, standing in the doorway to the adorable little brick home Diantha owned, she looked down at the woman who previously had hair down to the middle of her shoulder blades. It was now styled in a pixie cut, that Cynthia quickly realized had her feeling all sorts of things.

Diantha began to fidget under her gaze. "Too much?" She asked, running a hand up the back.

For another second, Cynthia found herself at a loss for words. Desperately, she scrambled for something. "No! Not at all," She said. "It actually– I was thinking it reminds me of when you would do the braid crown, and from certain angles it would look like a pixie cut. You look fantastic." It was at least something, albeit not her most eloquent choice in words.

She smiled a bit, stepping aside to let Cynthia in. "Thank you, dear, and thank you for coming out all this way. I know it's a bit of a drive," she said, standing with her as she took her shoes off.

"Don't worry about it. Like I said, I wanted to be here for you."

For a while, they sat in her living room, catching up with one another. Diantha allowed Cynthia to do most of the talking, doing whatever she could to avoid talking too much about her mother's funeral, and how being in Wisteria made her feel. There was a sting at the back of her eyes that she was desperate to not acknowledge.

Cynthia, however, saw right through it. She knew Diantha's old body language, and was getting increasingly familiar with how it had changed over the years. She still held her hands a specific way, clasped at her front with a tight squeeze, when she was upset.

"So, how are you holding up?" She asked again, but with a stronger emphasis this time.

She shook her head, not meeting her gaze. "When I'm not absolutely demotivated to even move, I get restless and make stupid decisions about my hair."

"I don't think it was a stupid decision," She said a little too quickly.

She tried to laugh. "Thank you, dear Cynthia, but…" She forced herself to stand, restlessness creeping back in. "In truth all I want to do is cry, but it feels pointless to do so. She was an awful woman, and I…"

Standing with her, she made no movement towards her. Diantha kept her back to her, taking a deep breath in a desperate attempt to keep it all in.

Cynthia had enough. "Diantha," She said firmly. "It's okay to cry over her. Trust me, I know just what kind of woman she was. I witnessed a lot of her cruelty first-hand. I know she was awful to you, and nothing will ever excuse the way she treated you, and used you and everyone around her. It's still okay to cry over her."

Diantha immediately turned on her. "But what good will it do? She's not even worth my tears!"

Despite the hostility, Cynthia found herself calm. She knew her anger wasn't with her, it was with herself. "What good will holding all of it in do?"

"I hated that woman, Cynthia! I absolutely hated her! I was nothing but a pawn to her my whole life! She used me and my father! She left my father for some man who didn't even bother to show up to her funeral!" As desperately as she tried to blink away her tears, they had already begun to fall, and her voice cracked along with the mask she had been hiding behind. "And somehow my father still loved her so fiercely he put all that aside to make sure she didn't die alone! The woman from my childhood might have deserved that, but that woman never came back. All I'm left with are memories of the woman who used me to bolster her own image, and the woman who aided in pushing you out of my life."

Opening her arms, Diantha immediately wrapped herself around Cynthia, unable to hold back the tears any longer.

"But I'm back, Diantha, and I'm not going anywhere unless you ask me to."

Despite how comforting it was to hear, it only made her cry harder.

At some point Cynthia had them sit down, and by then, Diantha's body physically could not produce any more tears. All she was left with was a dull headache, and the warm feeling of Cynthia's arm around her.

"When was the last time you ate?" Cynthia asked after a period of silence between them.

She hummed, adjusting herself against Cynthia's side. It was Thursday afternoon. She had definitely eaten since returning from Wisteria, but she couldn't remember precisely when. "Probably not since sometime yesterday," She admitted.

"Well, then, let's get something to eat, because you being hungry is not helping how you feel. Have you had any water today?"

She nodded a yes. "Though, with all the crying I've just done, that probably went to waste." She looked up to Cynthia, with a little amusement. "I showered before my haircut in case that's going to be your next mental health check."

She laughed lightly. "I kind of figured, but I'm just going down the list of things Steven would ask me while we lived together and my mental health was nonexistent."

"I didn't realize you two lived together," She commented.

She felt unsure of whether or not to even bring it up. "Not just lived together, he and I kind of dated for a while."

She laughed a bit, moving away to get a better look of her. "How do you 'kind of' date someone?"

She grimaced. "Sometimes I wonder how he's still my friend, because I was so back and forth with him. One day I would want him, and only him, and then the next I was 'don't look at me, don't touch me, don't anything with me'. Between my mental health and unwillingness to commit to him completely…" She shrugged. "Yeah, it's a wonder he even speaks to me. Therapy probably helped, but still."

"I spent my first three years out here in therapy, so I understand that." The first year had been once every week, then every other week, eventually to once a month until she and her counselor had agreed she would come back only if needed.

She realized now might be that time. At the very least, it wouldn't hurt.

Cynthia brought herself to her feet, offering a hand to Diantha. "Anyways, let's figure out an early dinner. I'll buy."

Diantha stood, not letting go of her hand. "Darling, you don't have to do that."

"I want to," She said with a squeeze of her hand. She knew it was crossing a line they hadn't touched upon since their very first coffee date when Diantha hadn't given her the choice on whether or not she would pay her half. Since then, they had always paid separately.

She decided it was an okay line to cross at that point, and that maybe there wasn't even a point of it being a line anymore.

"Let me go get a little more presentable." At least wiping down her face with a wet cloth would help any redness from crying.

"Alright," Cynthia said, letting their hands slip apart. "Let me know if there's anywhere you want to go."

A few hours later, after a shared meal at a small, crowded restaurant, and a drive that was sat in comfortable silence, they returned to Diantha's house. Together they sat on the couch, talking about how Diantha's trip to Wisteria had been apart from the funeral. She brought up the odd feeling of being there for the first time since Cynthia was back in her life.

It led to reminiscing on a time long gone.

Somewhere along the way Diantha rested her head against Cynthia, which brought her to do the same. Eventually, after a while, the two ended up laying on the couch together, curled up together like something from their past.

Laying in her arms, every part of Diantha's body was exhausted by that point. Everything felt heavy, and the repetitive motion of Cynthia's hands moving up and down her back was enough to leave her dozing off now and then.

"Cynthia," she mumbled, turning her head so her ear was against her heart.

She hummed in response, hand stopping at the small of her back.

Exhaustion had left her with little desire to hide anything. "I'm going to ask you something, but I want you to answer honestly. Not do what you think I need or anything like that," she said.

"Okay."

Despite the unwillingness to hide things, there remained a nervous tremble in her voice. "Will you stay with me tonight? I'm tired of lying to myself by saying I want to be alone."

She heard Cynthia's heart skip a beat, but despite it, she laughed lightly. "I will," she answered.

Her voice was so light and calm, it surprised Diantha. "Are you sure?" She asked, moving so the two of them could return to a sitting position. Though, now, neither of them seemed to be too worried about being too close. The hyperawareness of how close she was to straddling Cynthia was enough to shake her weariness, but it was the dawning realization that it didn't seem like an unpleasant idea that made it almost disappear altogether.

"I actually—" she briefly looked away "—I have a bag in my car with a change of clothes. I figured all of this was hard on you, and I wanted to be able to stay if you wanted me to."

Diantha remained silent as an overwhelming desire to kiss her crept up. The lighting of the room was soft, and there wasn't much of a distance to be closed. Would her lips be as soft as she remembered them being from thirteen years ago?

Forcing herself up, she told herself she wouldn't get that answer. Not when she felt as though she was already getting far more than she deserved.

This time, she offered her hands to Cynthia. "You go grab that, and I'm going to change into something more comfortable. I'll meet you back in my room."

Her body flushed as she said it, remembering having said the exact same words in the past, only with a different connotation.

Cynthia stood without a word, only squeezing her hand before letting go. She didn't trust herself to not say something she would later regret. She was staying the night; she didn't need to risk anything that would make Diantha take back that invitation.

Back to her room, Diantha quickly threw on an oversized t-shirt and some shorts, trying desperately to push away all the thoughts she was deeming far too inappropriate given the situation and timing.

Looking in her bathroom mirror, she was briefly stunned by her appearance. It was going to take some getting used to her new haircut.

She returned to her room when she heard Cynthia's footsteps approaching. She sat down on the edge of her side of the bed. "I sleep on this side, so you're free to the other," She said, watching Cynthia put her bag down by her armoire.

Cynthia looked over at her, taking in the way the light from the en-suite washed over Diantha's features. Drawn in on an impulse, she went to sit beside her, not worried about the distance –or lack of it– between them. "Still getting used to your haircut," She said softly.

Diantha laughed. "Liking it less?" She asked.

She shook her head. "I think I'm liking it even more."

Without thinking, she brought a hand up, motioning as she would have to tuck hair behind her ear, but instead just enjoying the fresh shortness under her fingers. She felt Diantha lean into her hand, and from the depths of her memory, she remembered it was a sensitive, and favorite, spot of hers.

She told herself to pull her hand away, that there was already a line she had crossed tonight and she didn't need to push her luck, but was finding it hard to convince herself to do so. Not when the sight of Diantha biting her lip left her warm. When she met her gaze, her hand fell, resting behind her.

Carefully, but with a sense of urgency, Diantha leaned up to press a kiss to Cynthia's cheek. There was a surge of anticipation as she felt her move, but she quickly got up to return to her bathroom, without another word, to escape the situation. She didn't trust her voice anymore, even for a second. She didn't trust her vulnerability wouldn't start asking for more than she thought would be appropriate.

Cynthia said nothing, only running a hand through her hair, trying to figure out what she would have done had Diantha not got up.

 _"_ _She's vulnerable, and I'm just feeling too much,"_ she told herself. Now was not the time to complicate things even further.

While waiting for Diantha to finish getting ready for bed, she went over to her bag, retrieving her change of clothes. There had been a time and day when changing around one another was a non-issue, but that wasn't the case now.

She took note of how neat and orderly her room was. The walls were a cool grey like the rest of the house, but went well with her lilac bedspread.

A few photos lined the walls, mostly landscapes from the northern mountains in Wisteria, and a few framed pictures sat atop her dresser. A few were of Diantha and Siebold from across the years, one of them having who she assumed was Siebold's husband in them. It had been many years since she last saw Siebold, so the picture alone was enough to bring a smile to her face.

When she turned around, Diantha stood in the bathroom doorway, watching her.

"You've said Siebold is doing well, right?" She asked, adjusting the sleeping pants in her grasp.

She nodded, resuming her spot on the bed. "Yes. He took over his father's restaurant, Apple of The Earth, a few years ago. His husband, Cress, had owned a small café style restaurant, and so they've both made quite the lives for themselves running all of it. They've been mulling over adopting recently, but have yet to reach a decision."

She laughed lightly. "Any child raised by him would never have to worry about a life of hardship, that's for sure. I assume he has just as an expensive taste as he did when I knew him?"

She laughed along, watching Cynthia stand in front of her. "Hell would freeze over before he gave up his lavish lifestyle."

Cynthia then went to get ready for bed herself, laughing to herself about the thought of how little Siebold had changed, and found herself hoping that she would see him again someday.

Though, as she thought over that scenario, she couldn't imagine Diantha not being involved somehow. Going back to Wisteria with Diantha would surly bring up old memories even more than it was already happening.

When she walked out, the room was now only lit in the dim light from the side table lamp. Diantha had already crawled under the covers, and as Cynthia made her way to the other side, she found herself wishing for a time when it would have just been natural to fall asleep in one another's arms.

Diantha turned her head, watching Cynthia slide in on the other side. She was wishing for the same thing. "Dear Cynthia, again, thank you, I– you." She paused. It had been a flicker of a thought, one she had earlier during dinner, but had been able to push aside. Now, lack of sleep wasn't letting her forget it. "I'm sorry."

Cynthia rolled on her side to face her, confusion clear on her face. "For what?"

There was a noticeable tremble in her voice again. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when your grandmother passed. You're here for me now, but I wasn't there for you and I should have been and–"

"Hey, hey," Cynthia soothed, leaning up on an arm and reaching out towards her. Carefully, she put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't…Diantha, that's in the past. I can't, and don't, hold that against you. You even said yourself you tried to be there."

"I should have tried harder…"

She ran her hand up to cup her cheek. "Diantha, we could spend the rest of our lives beating ourselves up with what ifs and should haves, but it will never change the past. I'm willing to put it behind me. I'm not saying we have to ignore it, because it obviously can affect how things are now, but…we don't have to let it dictate everything. If that even makes any sense."

Diantha gave her a one shouldered shrug. She went to say something, but stopped herself at the last second, afraid of how it might come across. But in a split-second decision, much like the one made to decide her haircut, she decided to not worry about how it would come across. "How did I get so lucky to have you back in my life?"

Cynthia laughed lightly, easing herself back down so that they now shared the same pillow. "Partially because my sister runs on absolute dumb luck," she only half-joked. How Kay ended up picking out of all the possible school districts the one Diantha happened to teach in could only be summed up by dumb luck.

It at least got a small laugh from Diantha.

Cynthia would take her victories where she could.

"But, apart from that, I can't help but think we came back to each other at just the right time. I think we needed those years apart."

"I would have to agree," She said, snuggling into her even more. Exhaustion had taken ahold of her once again. "Whatever it is, my dear Cynthia, I am glad you're here."

Her breath tickled her neck. "I'm glad I'm here, too, Diantha. Like I said earlier today, I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere unless you ask me to…" Maybe it was a little too forward; too on the nose, but she couldn't be bothered to care. Hearing ' _my_ dear Cynthia' was making her reckless.


End file.
